1175 5 4
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There I saw a man
Lowering his head
Close to the plate
And just wolfing down
His cake
And that was all he ate
It was like
Solace
He was enjoying it
So much
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117544
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an almost perfectly symmetrical/
Cheshire grin of a moon tonight/
above the iced roof of the house
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1175127
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They say I am filthy. On this high pillar I perch like a stuffed avian relic, flightless, no prey. The horizon before me is broken by scuff and foreign tongue, by atomized evil. Pleas, and there are many, are answered by the only prayer I know, the one prayer, which…
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117522
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The boy in the elevator with round glasses, /
who carried a newly-purchased broom, /
was tall and burdened with clothes
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117543
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Darkness dangles like bats in a mouth of cabbage. I call this necromancy. But it doesn’t work. No dead people appear. Just Bob Dylan on a horse.
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117500
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117522
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I keep the book when the lessons are done, go through the pages Momma skipped over...
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117500
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My toes curled together under the pathetic rag of a bedsheet, the frost creeping in through the two-inch deformity of the window on the left wall. I was tempted to sneak a glance at them to insure that they weren't black, but then decided that I'd…
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117540
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We all wish to partake in great events.
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117565
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we were all meant to do with our love? What I can think of is to ask the question again. I suppose there are others more willing to supply you with a proper answer, but none seem real to me. These words are only stones,meant to skip across the…
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117511
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You could hear her coming from a long way off
like she kept trying to catch her breath,
like she was getting the fun rattled out of her bones.
But it was laughter, always laughter that kept on
filling up her belly from the inside
and she was
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117542
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Standing there as you walked away from me that late March afternoon, in the park off Meridian Street, the spring tableau seemed
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117500
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Watching the surroundings, the school proceeded on with no threat in sight. The Circle of Four entered inside Azure’s classroom where she sat next to a window.
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117453
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POETRY IS DEGENERACY / IS A DISGUSTING HABIT
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117420
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The alcohol is on my mind, on my mind, on my mind
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117474
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All this broken glass in the road
Tells the longest story l have ever told
Of how you lost your life and I my love
And how you still go wandering above
I don't know how I can return
To the planet where we used to thrive
Along this broken
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117421
|
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…
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117471
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The new poetry
comes in shining
metal boxes
covered in glass
so you can peer in.
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117410
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Lately, instead of the images of dreams waking me up, as has always been the case, it is sounds that jolt me awake. The thumps and roars and slithering of creatures unseen. The ghosts that slam cupboards shut. The apparitions of robbers breaking down the front door:…
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117410
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Mary had no shoes. She told me they were stolen by someone at the shelter and I believed her because she stood there outside the Arlington T stop in a pair of tube socks. She told me she wasn't asking for money. She told me the shelter was serving seafood today so her…
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117422
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I wonder what it would be like to dog-paddle in the middle of the ocean.
I wonder how Jean Auguste Ingres got the flesh tones for “Odalisque.”
I wonder if bees have dreams.
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117410
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There was a thing she liked to do in the pool—after running and sweating—and that was to exhale as much air as she could stand, then hold her nose and sink to the bottom and just look up at the surface of the water, the way the sun hit it, the way the liq
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117455
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Sundays I drive her to the cemetery to visit her husband of fifty years. I've had her for two, and when I tell her I love her as much as he did, she laughs. I have to hold her elbow and help her over the bumpy grass. Today it's raining and we brought just one umbrella, so…
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117440
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Bipolar. Schizophrenic. Alcoholic.
Addicted. Abused. A reader?
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117353
|
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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117331
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For years, Nina lived in an apartment with furniture that was silver or clear or metallic, she could see her reflection in every surface. She had an enormous television that took up one entire wall of the small living room. She and Anna and Desmond, Nina's downstairs …
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117332
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and then he began to sing, along with the ghostly villagers
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117311
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My anger over yesterday's argument with you slipped from memory when I felt the first of the two hundred bee stings, each tiny jab another burst of brilliant pain, and each little attack another reminder to watch where I'm walking.
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117342
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The cell was crowded, barely enough room to swing a cat.
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117300
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-Serves you right, you double agent bitch, spat Arris.
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