1217 4 1
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“You're bendable,” he said, and then there was this silence as we looked into the space in front of us. I understood what he meant right off and thought it a gift to speak to someone that did not get the words exactly right, but in not doing so, got…
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121742
|
The cell was crowded, barely enough room to swing a cat.
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121710
|
When I was a boy and just out of seminary school, I went to a Doors concert and heard Jim Morrison sing his song ‘Soft Parade’ – it changed my life.
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121741
|
This time is different. The dream doesn’t continue with endless walking.
|
121721
|
It was that awkward time when one didn’t know if the night’s lover wanted to see you again.
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121701
|
I was sitting at the barFeeling the blues after workDrinking my 64 0z pitcherOf beerBody hurting all overAnd this kid begins to talk to meAbout how drinking is killing myBrain cellsAnd of course i have heard thisShit all beforeYet i act dumb all the sameLike really? I did…
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121765
|
I texted a wickety-split, tax-declaring New York-based international escort, a moonlighting, all-pro Kit, whose day job on Wall Street yields no bonus.
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121766
|
With the sudden thrust//
of April green, we can forget/
our drought continues.
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121771
|
The new poetry
comes in shining
metal boxes
covered in glass
so you can peer in.
|
121722
|
The boy in the elevator with round glasses, /
who carried a newly-purchased broom, /
was tall and burdened with clothes
|
121700
|
A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Also a thing with bodacious knockers.
|
121742
|
And in the dark caves a new secret, hidden from flyby probes and the imagination of men. In these new caves, names for the loved ones, Bradbury, Clarke, Rover
|
121711
|
I drink the funeral in a dream. I give satisfaction in voice overs.
|
121722
|
Douchey Jake made me cry until my eyes puffed so much I couldn't see through them. I said hey look, to my friends who slept on the futon, don't I look like one of those dolls with the real fake eyelashes? The truth is I've been pretending I don't…
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121720
|
With some of these guys it was like propping a kid on a training-wheel bike, then steering the kid down the street til he figured out what to do next. Tricks would come into the bar. Roanne had a smile for all but the dregs…
|
121710
|
“A story shines brighter through a tear in your eye,” You say
|
121611
|
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.
|
121622
|
Can you remember now? How we could each disappear completely, connected despite fault lines. . . .
|
121640
|
"At a bare minimum it deserves to be a major cult hit."
|
121663
|
|
121633
|
a midge smothered
in the light of disarray
crawls back into the sage
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121600
|
Last time I saw the American Dream was Tuesday, down at the Unemployment Office. He was looking pretty worn out, as if being unemployed for over a year was finally getting to him.
|
121698
|
After you lost sight in your left eye, mom made me go on the road with you that last summer to help you see.
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121622
|
“Miss Brown had spent the morning (was it just this morning? Or another?) purchasing parsnips and leafy green vegetables from the local grocers, when she was overcome by a wave of nausea. The world went black and she awoke in a windowless, doorless room.
|
121680
|
The soul was in the eyes but (it) isn't
The animal is in the body and can't be hidden
One senses the density of the blood there
Occasionally the soul rises to the surface
Occasionally the animal comes into the eyes
They use people and throw them away
|
1216128
|
He switched off the light. His wife was breathing softly. At her bedside he told her of her friends the roses, of the pretty carnation brooch he had pinned on her silk scarf, of her coquettish hat which fitted her so well. Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night…
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121684
|
|
121622
|
The boss has a serious problem--he's too nice for his own good.
|
121631
|
And the urban sprawl doesn’t hesitate. All around me, I taste the aftermath of bricks, dust and dirt, freshly laid concrete slabs.
|
121500
|
I sold my ego to pay a parking ticket. And then I wrote 77 words about mental health.
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