1345 3 4
|
Words reach out of my mind for paradise. And come back with rocks.
|
1345129
|
The gulls/
have somehow mastered the art//
of avoiding the nooses of six-pack/
plastic rings
|
134420
|
That’s not just a
trinket on her finger,
that’s a rock, a fortress,
a castle. No one
can scale those walls
except Joe Sixpack,
slumped beside her
at the airport.
They’re not a match.
I give it
5 years, max.
Not even.
Joe
|
134400
|
She told me it had been there since she was a kid, this large black spot like a blimp floating from her right arm up to the tip of her neck. She had really pale skin so she kinda looked like a cow strutting down the street.
|
134430
|
From the earth it erupts
Growing longer, stronger, as the sun rises and sets
Days and nights pass, bringing the wind, the rain, the moon, the stars
A place of shelter it becomes
|
134443
|
-- as if I had / only rung the rusted bell --
|
134400
|
The music is too loud in here and it's hurting my ears. I know some of the words to the songs because my older sister listens to the same stuff when she's in her bedroom and is playing her iPod and my dad yells at her to turn that crap down. I like my dad. He calls me…
|
134455
|
then something like a shark gnawing on a harpsichord. Her drum kit apparently is an entire laundromat. A pocketful of marbles spilling in rivulets, down a set of narrow linoleum steps, merrily as two warblers splashing in a birdbath. several octaves below
|
134464
|
It was an autumn day, late in the afternoon, a Tuesday, when the last murderer died. There was no official announcement. Indeed, she and her crime had been forgotten. Pancreatitis, her cause of death. Quite treatable, the cancer. Nothing could be done for the gene that…
|
134400
|
The bedroom was still as our conversation dissolved into a heavy silence broken only by the ticking of the clock on her night table and the occasional sob that hadn't yet been swallowed in her pillow. I stubbed out my cigarette and leaned forward in…
|
134474
|
|
134422
|
for Tracy ThornYou don't need a song about fixed stars, you needa reason to be glad stars are here. Themoon's always been around, but not always like the friend you want,until now. Don't throw it all away becauseyou are too sad to care. You've come into your own. Allthings…
|
134496
|
The world can still be viewed as a honey drop of sparkling rain, but not all washed up tears can be revealed as such. The stories swirling inside are constantly shifting their own gears, searching for the lost highway, and sometimes…
|
134300
|
Do you know what it is to crave something? Of course you do. But this was different. This was beyond craving.
|
134387
|
Even among the thousands of black cats/
in the world, though, he would nonetheless/
be my favorite with those impurities of light brown tufts
|
134300
|
The day was yesterday, November 11, 2010. I was home from work, and I pulled my car into the driveway. I stopped short of the garage to get out of the car and get the daily mail. Bills and unwanted coupons for places I didn't go and for items I don't…
|
134333
|
irretrievably we tell ourselves stories
irretrievably as beaded water slides off our skin
|
134355
|
Luke and Diane sat at a round white table looking around the room. There were clusters of people forming an archipelago of cordial exchange and small talk. All but a few were strangers, friends and family of his sister-in-law Mary, now a widow, though the word sounded…
|
134310
|
Soul? Who's got soul? That nothingness that holds us together, between the spaces, in and out of the cracks in our minds and bodies. The soul weighs something, you know. It's been proven. Some guy did a study where he weighed people before and after death, and they weighed…
|
134310
|
Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.
|
134300
|
He met her at midnight just off the plane and they sized each other with silent growing awareness that no matter what might transpire in distant tomorrows, each served here now as passports to magic and lands far away. On the…
|
134363
|
We call it the alley of the shadows, the low sunless concavity of earth between the stalks, the acrid scent of the ripened arrow-points.
|
134311
|
Remain in repose, a little longer.
|
134300
|
“Because the day I fucked you I caught an infection and now I have it for life.”
|
134362
|
Of course, no one can control what goes on in an elevator.
|
134320
|
Speaking in tongues
untranslatable,
they move in experimental spacesuits,
uneasy in the other's gravity.
(To say nothing of the difficulty of dancing.)
|
134386
|
“Outis of Utopia” my found name! / I'll inscribe it soon as the tide goes out.
|
134300
|
|
134320
|
it’s okay, you can come inside me
|
134251
|
Samson was also somewhat in hopes that his son Jason would become engaged in this minor capitalist enterprise and 'turned around' in his life.
|
