1297 7 5
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of anything if that's the way you feel your love must go down, off its last nut before the big victimizing crash of the end of days and flowers. But watch out for thosethorn bushes that grow from forgotten holes in the ground.…
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129753
|
POETRY IS DEGENERACY / IS A DISGUSTING HABIT
|
129731
|
This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
|
129700
|
Love is easy when all is going well, but it is one of life’s profound, humbling lessons that few people love you enough to wipe your butt.
|
129722
|
There it was
One abandoned high heel shoe on the sidewalk
Could have been
Some kind of robbery
Though
Maybe it was just
The beginning of the
Walk of shame
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129744
|
when I take the time/now to remember/
you have become/a thousand page/memory book
|
129730
|
A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
|
129700
|
an island hidden in the sound holds treasure
|
129744
|
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.
|
129752
|
lift my love and be lifted
|
129722
|
“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.
|
129753
|
In the neon light and barroom shadows,
|
129700
|
when I said good morning I meant
|
129710
|
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…
|
129722
|
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.
|
129720
|
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…
|
129775
|
One day, Dasha confessed to Igor that she had an incurable illness: Purple emptiness.
|
129700
|
We walk with our heads down, maybe 15 of us, moving under a sun that has grown to encompass everything. Everything is in hues of orange and red like a bloody eyeball on fire.
|
129610
|
Duffy struck an adversarial tone from the outset, offering up a first poem about improper expenses submitted by members of Parliament that ruffled feathers across party lines.
|
129600
|
Last week I heard that there is a new horror movie out about Abe Lincoln, with the plot of the film involving the tallest of presidents hunting down vampire bats with his axe while suspending habeas corpus, writing lame speeches about the freedom of man, restoring the…
|
129630
|
I guess you felt more comfortable holding your Moby Dick
|
1296128
|
My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.
|
129655
|
The television was playing reruns of Mr. Ed, but it was hard to hear because of the flock of birds in the palm tree. I’d sometimes imagined the birds coming through the window, a swarming of pink cotton mouths, mawing everything in sight.
|
129631
|
temporary objects of desire
|
129621
|
Listening too much to the night, with its whistles, bright lights of luminescent bursts like leaves on fire, or the raised ear of a cow in the purple mist, or the curled tail of a pig foraging in the night.
|
129620
|
During the night and in the fog of halfsleep Ben shifted and felt the weight of Miranda gone from him, the bed empty. In the quiet of the house he thought he heard a footstep and the soft shutting of a door, and as his eyes searched the dark he…
|
129620
|
it’s okay, you can come inside me
|
129643
|
Your father's remembrance and memorial would be inappropriate for me to attend. never mind the truth the searing…
|
129532
|
and then he began to sing, along with the ghostly villagers
|
129555
|
The man who will lead you can be nothing
if not already found underneath the
light-heartedness of heaven, (dawn)
if not under the light-heartedness
of snow.
He would have to have happiness
already sewn into his soul.
He bears no burdens
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