1343 12 9
|
The gulls/
have somehow mastered the art//
of avoiding the nooses of six-pack/
plastic rings
|
134221
|
There’s an account of roasting inward, holding myself like a rock inflamed, my inward joy rotting my veins. How was I supposed to go on loving anything after you? Like a pigeon hated at home, awaiting your passionate kisses? Knowing how your classical k
|
134222
|
“plain before my eyes” said he eyes swathed in bandages covering sight
oozing yellow fluid is this life thought i
|
134287
|
|
134230
|
A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
|
134200
|
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.
|
134222
|
This was why the man on the bicycle was still in time to turn his head to her because he thought it was his sister who lived in California, because she wore the same jacket and in his inattentiveness almost ran over another cyclist.
|
1342157
|
...he had that same grin, better than a racy French picture.
|
134243
|
-- as if I had / only rung the rusted bell --
|
134210
|
Believe me, I would run if I could, but there seems to be a low haze of molasses clinging to my ankles.
|
134264
|
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…
|
134243
|
I saw you hold her as if you were copy writing a ball of yarn
|
134200
|
“Because the day I fucked you I caught an infection and now I have it for life.”
|
134200
|
|
134200
|
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.
|
134254
|
I don't have to show you how to fly. I don't even know who you are still possibly trying to be in this crazy grounded world. But the words make us family. I can't help that or what you might do with that public tweet tweet…
|
134220
|
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…
|
134220
|
it’s okay, you can come inside me
|
13411310
|
I realize that to say, "I do not believe in God" is footsteps away from "I do not rely on God" and "God left me."
|
134110
|
It was ridiculous. We were only in 3rd grade. How can anyone know at that age, only eight, that Judy F. was the girl he was meant to be with for the rest of their lives?
But that was how Stephen O. behaved. As if they both already knew this, and they
|
134120
|
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
|
134111
|
my soul is black and it's deep like heartbreak and heavy as stone and as thick as ink and it is pressing on top of me like last nights one night stand like dead weight so that I can't lift my arms or spread my legs it feels like I am walking through mud but it's…
|
134154
|
She laughed as she stuck up the word flaccid,
it kept falling down
|
134100
|
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…
|
134155
|
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
|
134163
|
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.
|
134111
|
Remain in repose, a little longer.
|
134142
|
|
134121
|
Ever the chance we were given, with luck always, fate. At least we engendered the song and the drink. Having sailed from the goddess of sensual love, having the best throw that beauty allowed, now you can call it will, though some will call it hate.
|
134122
|
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…
|
