1291 5 5
|
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.
|
1291119
|
|
129121
|
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.
|
129110
|
There's one graveyard for the part-timers and another for the full-timers. Ours is a little nicer, but we're still all going to hell. Do you remember St. Petersburg? No, you're memory's not that good.
|
129100
|
He'd always considered it his bus.
|
129110
|
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…
|
129110
|
The lace fell through the fingers, wrinkled and nimble they had become too used to avoiding the finite objects in life which needed attention. The white cotton sat loosely on her shoulders, the collar exposed the skin which had become dry and her shoulder
|
129130
|
Goodbye comes in stages. At first you recognize that you will “miss” someone when they are gone. Then you have to accept the fact that they are leaving. And finally accept the fact that they are gone; and not particularly in that order. If only it
|
129100
|
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.
|
129100
|
In the tumbled-down now there's too much material, culled from pretty boys that don't notice me and tattooed ones that do, and I'm certain there's at least one dreamer soaking eyes into me who knows all the twisted lyrics invoking pretty little horses.
|
129031
|
This was not a good sign, comforting gestures from strangers were bad omens.
|
1290136
|
I tell people that we leave out food for the creatures to appease the skunk gods.
|
129074
|
—A little blood puts some life into the work, said the old artisan smiling.
|
129010
|
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.
|
129010
|
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.
|
129021
|
Gringovitch sat on the big leather chair in Olivia’s suite. Before him on a coffee table were the nude sketches he’d made of her earlier that day.
|
129000
|
The glamour of living in the Rebuilt Engine Capital of the World is meaningless to the young boys who roam its crowded streets after school, desperately looking for something to take their minds off their homework.
|
129053
|
They borrowed birds from the trees
And forced me to sing along with them
You could say they made my heart burn
But we all know some of that was fake
It was a direct route
From sleep walking
To sleep shopping
To this
I guess I lived a
|
129053
|
In the neon light and barroom shadows,
|
129010
|
Something is clearly wrong with them and we're supposed to socialize them.
|
129000
|
Antique pens better allow an old soul to express what needs expressing.
|
129022
|
I keep the book when the lessons are done, go through the pages Momma skipped over...
|
129053
|
His eyes begin to glisten like hot green wax pooling around the
wick
of a
pretty little candle.
|
129000
|
when I said good morning I meant
|
129011
|
He is sleek with hearts and I see a different name etched onto each one.
|
129042
|
Up to the loft we went, shedding clothes all the way. No one is home, but the place smells like the fresh cookies my mom had made before she left. It's dark and my lips hit his…
|
129043
|
Your father's remembrance and memorial would be inappropriate for me to attend. never mind the truth the searing…
|
128920
|
He sat behind her in Honors English, each day studying everything about her.......
|
128953
|
POETRY IS DEGENERACY / IS A DISGUSTING HABIT
|
128920
|
The alcohol is on my mind, on my mind, on my mind
|
