1190 3 2
|
the worm was stabbed where two rivers branch:/who would slay was slain.
|
119063
|
It was as if every wrong foisted upon his ancestors stirred up a war in him and he was charged with intending the canon at the living.
|
1190103
|
I am beginning to worry. There is something that they are not telling me. I am afraid that something bad is going to happen.
|
119020
|
it’s okay, you can come inside me
|
119051
|
We went driving on Sundays.
|
118900
|
|
118945
|
Is there anything more emphatic than an ovary?
|
1189163
|
There are two, though, that stayed for more than just a little while: Marvin and Oscar. Marvin was married and that's all I have to say about that. Oscar wasn't and it seemed as though he wasn't planning on getting married either. What a petty man he was.
|
118931
|
I see you’re wearing your tablecloth top again
your tablecloth dress to impress me
and distress me with all your tablecloth positions
for your luncheons on the grass
with all your famous friends
who found you on your ass
Yes we can
|
11891610
|
We're in a sedate forest next to a boisterous beach. The sky is sea green above the trees and forest green above Sinepuxent Bay. Chaste squirrels are keeping a lookout for bad-boy gulls. Kids on circus bikes ride out of the woods into their bathing suits. The…
|
118941
|
|
118900
|
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…
|
118952
|
I passed the old man from upstairs now and then, usually on Saturdays.
|
118943
|
I come up and out of the hole onto a village street in the middle of a parade celebrating the arachnid god.
|
118853
|
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
|
11881310
|
I realize that to say, "I do not believe in God" is footsteps away from "I do not rely on God" and "God left me."
|
118822
|
The mannequin’s blind eyes, open, green, serene,
Look away from the cross, her hand
Against our crotch, against
Our suffering, our agony of being
Alive and beating warm.
|
118811
|
I am tripping on poetry.
Purple ink drips from my eyes like ergot of rye.
|
118863
|
We were born here. At the top of the stairs underneath a painting of basset hounds playing croquet. And a hallway closet filled with lost someones. And the police, three times a week, singing nursery rhymes while walking up to our door.
|
118866
|
They shoot up through the soles of their feet
once the veins in their arms are all used up.
They shoot up in their necks
like the cows on the African Savannah
|
118885
|
The thrum and the thrust//
have beaten conviviality out of me.
|
118811
|
Opportunity, says Webster, is a, "favorable juncture of circumstances." In my Oxford book of quotations, there are seven famous lines about opportunity. Seven – that’s it! There are twenty-seven regarding failure. Seems it's been easier for the great
|
118821
|
To assist you in recalling some of Episode One of - "A Poem by Jasmine Coriander-Semolina": My head lifted up slowly as I looked up through a gaussian blur of fragrant incense smoke and saw she was crying. She whispered that her daughter, Pastina, was last…
|
118841
|
This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.
|
118860
|
and still every time I walked up there - so it can't be the cycling - I was nervous I would do it wrong
|
118831
|
It was New Year's Day. My cousin and I were having coffee. It was about ten at night. We were outside the establishment. She said: "Sometimes I think you're not happy. I see it in you."
|
118810
|
Me leaving is not the confirmation of all your fears. It is not. It's because of them.
|
118833
|
I study the architecture of hunger. I listen to intuitions. I have a map of heaven and a map of hell and they are the same map.
|
118741
|
Whisper salutations to your irises
|
118722
|
Can you remember now? How we could each disappear completely, connected despite fault lines. . . .
|
