1347 3 2
|
... she’d stolen her boyfriend away from her, leaving her with a goldfish and a cat. Oh, and a pillow and some lights, she added. And I can’t really see you, because I’m blind.
|
134700
|
gods aren’t going to help you son
|
1347159
|
Dread and drudgery sour each day
|
134742
|
Concrete coffeecake
drumbeat gyrate
Andy Rooney ran a meter.
|
134744
|
I will always remember that
picture of you in your
bright blue summer dress,
with your arms spread out
against a wooden fence in
Central Park.
|
134754
|
I loved her when she first came calling in the sodden dawn of spring. She was a strange and dangerous flower. Together we drank up all the money. The days staggered away like drunks lurching down a flophouse hall.
|
134711
|
Here is a not remembering
|
134752
|
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,…
|
134765
|
They got slices of greasy salami
On top of round mini carrots, celery
Pepperoncini, slices of sweet pickles
They got cinder block walls
A Tiki Bar with glasses hanging
Upside down from the stemware over the bar
They got wood paneling, cottag
|
134710
|
|
134743
|
the sand is hot to walk upon so you must run if caught there w/out footwear. it is like a painter has colored the sea and made parts of it dark blue yet other areas green. little birds jump around the fine grain world and that is when you wonder where they came…
|
134700
|
"It all began with a painting," I said. "Mostly blue. Acrylic. Naturalistic in a modern sense. She was stylized but recognizable, and her breasts were exposed. Everyone could see her disordered skirt. The painter was a fan of Herrick.
|
134754
|
I suspect I’ll make the right decision.
|
134764
|
Cold smoke from the crater
Breathes on our eyelashes;
The abysmal emptiness held
Its breath just once.
|
134742
|
Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time he hit the landing at the…
|
134722
|
|
134722
|
He said, “It was only after I broke my neck and even like maybe a year later that I really started realizing that I had something to say.”
|
134632
|
His thoughts drifted to when he was a kid, to the monthly trip to the barber.
|
134641
|
Whisper salutations to your irises
|
134611
|
There is a false dawn,
when night still holds sway, but tempered with promise; anticipation.
|
134644
|
They pull up to the curbside and he jumps out
to shake the hands in that familiar men’s
grasp/shake they do when saluting each other.
If that isn’t his daughter it should be, the one
sitting in his car, with her door wide open.
|
134621
|
It was that awkward time when one didn’t know if the night’s lover wanted to see you again.
|
134600
|
Antique pens better allow an old soul to express what needs expressing.
|
134611
|
Jack Krackenthorpe, Director-General of MI-5, sat alone drinking tea in Lee Ho Fook, a third-rate Chinese restaurant in Soho a mile from his Curzon Street office.
|
134611
|
There is an air of sulfur about you. I cannot tell if / it emanantes from you, or it is the stink of your clothes / from having been in hell for so long.
|
134621
|
The Fat Man took a sip of whiskey, then replaced his glass on the table next to his fedora. …
|
134641
|
We call this game the end of the world...
|
134643
|
I come up and out of the hole onto a village street in the middle of a parade celebrating the arachnid god.
|
134511
|
I am tripping on poetry.
Purple ink drips from my eyes like ergot of rye.
|
134581
|
If you had a choice, be a poet or not,
I’d suggest prose for the lines that you jot.
|
