1266 0 0
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I hear you calling me, as if through water spilled within a glass--
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126600
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Joan's biospy showed the cancer had come back. Instead of preparing herself for chemo, she booked us plane tickets to the Galapagos. “Death can wait another ten days,” she said.
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126622
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Momma wakes us up early while Daddy's still asleep, pulls out white poster boards, markers from the closet, and together, we draw babies...
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126633
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Jo was tailored, Amy was frivolous with ribbons and bows, Meg was plain and sensible; and Beth, who was ill and had no costume changes, wore the same nightgown throughout the dress-up session.
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126621
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There was a time when I washed my dishes with a stray cat who spoke French. I won't go into all the details of what led the bilingual feline into my kitchen, or how he came to take the plunge into an abyss of soap and grease, cheese-encrusted plates, and…
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126641
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She found herself suddenly awake at five. She laid there in their bed while downstairs the coffee maker waited for her to press its button so it might gurgle and hiss, filling the pot with wakefulness. The dishwasher waited too, waited for her to throw its latch…
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126650
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Bitter the sun when it is in Hades
High fans meaning nothing keep the heat down
but the nitre keeps burning
So glows the gloss and high sheen on the skin
Foreheads exhibit thought
though the eyes are crossed
and at night, butterflies i
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126675
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One day, Dasha confessed to Igor that she had an incurable illness: Purple emptiness.
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126685
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I was so high on the not knowing, I thought, you will love me for my confusion. And so I allowed myself to reach further inward than either of us felt comfortable. I imagined a delicious vanilla pudding at the core of my exploration, sweet and satisfying enough for me to…
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126500
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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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126521
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Ben left the airport and headed toward downtown Nice, his stomach was in a knot.
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126587
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Even among the thousands of black cats/
in the world, though, he would nonetheless/
be my favorite with those impurities of light brown tufts
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126544
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I will always remember that
picture of you in your
bright blue summer dress,
with your arms spread out
against a wooden fence in
Central Park.
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126564
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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…
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126510
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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.
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126511
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Remain in repose, a little longer.
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126511
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god's seed is asleep in the carseat
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126521
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The Fat Man took a sip of whiskey, then replaced his glass on the table next to his fedora. …
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1265126
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Agamemnon and Menelaus were/
complete creeps. Achilles was//
a pompous piece of shit.
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126522
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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.
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126400
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They are sea scallops wrapped in bacon, grilled with butter and lemon and plated in heavy seasoned cream sauce and served with apricot chutney.
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126433
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Well, hello
hunger: what a sweet surprise.
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126430
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A kind of sucking darkness into
A kind of noir celebration of despair
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126441
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I know what to expect because this has happened before. The darkness, the stench of an unlit match, The leathery sound of old wings flapping and finally that voice made up of feces and dust, ancient and terrible suggesting depravity and painful deaths t
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126400
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an island hidden in the sound holds treasure
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126444
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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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126433
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Getting up and reading his poem
The stuffy poet sitting back down
On the leather couch, which creaks under his weight
After adjusting his narrow tie from the 1980’s
The stuffy poet clearing his throat, twice,
During an enemy’s reading
The s
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1264199
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126466
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With the sudden thrust//
of April green, we can forget/
our drought continues.
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126485
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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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