1283 7 6
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I fancy myself a spy. Unofficial official of the H. O. A. Super secret free agent agent of the Glenwood Homeowner's Association. Even the board is unaware of the work I do in their name, without the faintest utterance of their name. Only the highest of the high, the…
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128300
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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.
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128222
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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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128223
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The weather, mid-sixties now,
will take its toll on
this singular voice.
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128200
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"Did you see any action?" I ask, hoping for a story. He points to a scar ripping through the chevron on his left arm but says nothing.
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128200
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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…
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128266
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They shoot up through the soles of their feet
once the veins in their arms are all used up.
They shoot up in their necks
like the cows on the African Savannah
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128201
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She excelled at plowing forward. He excelled at staying in one place. Eventually the distances got too great and she put an ocean between them.
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128200
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128211
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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.
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128200
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"It all began with a painting," I said. "Mostly blue. Acrylic. Naturalistic in a modern sense. She was stylized but recognizable, and her breasts were exposed. Everyone could see her disordered skirt. The painter was a fan of Herrick.
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128211
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never have i wanted/ to stay in one place long,/ flight inspired to escape/ existential ennui--
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128285
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Mom would dig through one of her music boxes to pick out Saturday morning's cleaning jams. Tattered, battered Payless shoeboxes with lids ripped to shit, filled to capacity with piles of cassettes; greatest hits albums, mostly, or Time Life compilations of mid-to-late…
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128230
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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
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128100
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When I was alive with you inside me, I discovered briefly and finally how to fly. Up near your ceiling as I floated around the universe with widening eyes, like a butterfly, like a god, like a bird with golden hair at my neck, like a speckled moth infla
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128174
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—A little blood puts some life into the work, said the old artisan smiling.
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128120
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Angelo stood to the side and lit a cigarette.
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128144
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when I take the time/now to remember/
you have become/a thousand page/memory book
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128100
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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.
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128100
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TromboneA trombone blusters his waythrough the bright restaurant,demanding to see the chef.He's furious;the prawns have given himsplitnotes.ViolinsFour violins wait for a bus in the rain.The pervading atmosphere of melancholymakes their plaintive scrapings redundant.AxeThe…
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128144
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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.
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128121
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Tucker walked the long and lonely stretch of highway in front of him. The loneliness didn't matter; he had his own way of handling that feeling. The walking, however, was wearing away at his mind. How…
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1281149
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... and August's drought/
will yellow lawns, singe the shrubs,/
and amplify cicada song.
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128153
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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
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128121
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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.
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128100
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Antique pens better allow an old soul to express what needs expressing.
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1281107
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128134
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Words reach out of my mind for paradise. And come back with rocks.
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128111
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128163
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The Bearcat 101 was a police scanner popular with a certain type during in the 1970s. Daddy was that exact type. I found the Bearcat in his apartment after he passed. His illness was a common one, the process gradual, implacable. No red and blue…
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