1271 2 2
|
I whispered, “I love you”
and then, “Goodbye”
|
1271105
|
The light they love to hate so much is always pulsating within each life; the unbelievable color sword of what happens next when any two people find each other in their hearts and all pretense is somehow gone, for at…
|
127140
|
We all wish to partake in great events.
|
127111
|
papa wants to dance - the future is so bright - feel good all the time baby
|
127155
|
I heard that Hollywood is remaking “Thelma and Louise” with Christina Ricci and that dark haired girl who worked on a show that plays on the television. I heard it either from the internet or from a dream. I thought about looking it up, but I don't…
|
127100
|
My body continues to tread water through its daily existence and each day challenges me to find some sort of grounding. I often wonder who needs taking care of as I find myself sometimes spiraling in a downwards cycle-- not even taking a required break
|
127032
|
You may think it's illegal
Well, you'd be wrong, ya hear?
Cause you're just in the wrong
Neck of the woods
And it's legal here
Want some beer?
Yeah, that's right
It's legal here
Don't go opening the door
Any wider, I know
You don't
|
127042
|
We're alone and besieged / by badness.
|
127085
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
|
127021
|
“Lassie was a hack,” Jim the Wonder Dog says as he looks out over fields of soybeans. “She couldn’t act her way out of a 25 pound bag of Purina Dog Chow."
|
127052
|
She didn't know why she thought the ring wouldn't fit her finger, but it slid on easily and effortlessly, coming to rest in the old familiar place it always had, the groove that had worn in her finger after seven years of wearing it. She hadn't worn it in a few months,…
|
127010
|
Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.
|
127000
|
What can I offer you, White Moon?This full night lays black before your stoic assent—and Ibreathe my final breath, frantic—for you. I wait, damned,a bestial lover in the broken dark of the variety market, whisperinga word of forgiveness to an empty window. I…
|
127032
|
He paid the price for being a dick when he tried to write. The Muse did not care for violent behavior.
|
127032
|
It was May of my senior year in college. Everybody was coasting, knowing what they were going to be doing the next year, or that they’d be doing nothing. Except for one guy, Tom.
|
127063
|
Sorrow fences with fear and questions
|
127011
|
FUN MOVIE TRAILER: 41 members of my family participated in a movie I co-wrote and shot with my wife. Have a look!:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wA7k2r81iXEHere's the 64 minute film-noir-style…
|
126931
|
the Tate Modern is like a dungeon!
|
126975
|
Just a lot of honking and hissing.
|
126921
|
Michiko never telephoned Frank from Washington or Chicago.
|
126944
|
They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…
|
126931
|
temporary objects of desire
|
126941
|
For hours and hours she swirled, and swirled some more. She was trying to be there for everyone, yet no one realized how much pain they were causing her. Some of them had thrown invisible darts of anger all day, and she had endured each one, because she c
|
126952
|
...the completeness of pleasure tantamount to the end of all process...
|
126922
|
...She was my first, my only, she broke me in then brought me down. Alone now, I cycle through hundreds of variations of her image like a flip book narrating some abstract story. That’s all she is now to me, an incoherent melange of tints, saturations, an
|
126952
|
How strangely perfect it is To see this man memorializedAn author, so I'll always cheerThough I haven't yet read his worksA secret perhaps best keptThe shame of an English major, the shame of a friendHow strangely perfect it is To read even the names paying…
|
126900
|
Loving himself. Loved by no one. Loving no one.
|
126987
|
Did you really think you were going to cure cancer with that poem?
|
126851
|
Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.
|
126853
|
And there on the street
Were a bunch of frantic pigeons
Picking over some discarded
Chicken bones
I mean they were really
Going to town on them
You know, frantic
Like there was no tomorrow
And then I saw it
A real sign of progress
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