1247 4 0
|
Your clothes had been burned and your skin washed. They kept your boots at my firm insistence. I saw them write your name on the card. The card was black, and the ink was black. The writing was shallow and scratchy. The box they filed the card into was black and so…
|
124710
|
I should've traced my steps.
I'm lost in a sea of hyperlinks.
|
124765
|
and any stain or streak/
is as you will or wish it
|
124796
|
so here we all are/
deep in debt
|
124720
|
I find that I am keeping silent more often. I don't like repeating myself.
|
124764
|
We believe in our love storyin spite of the ferocious efforts ofserial bankerseverywhere to discourage us from looking our damned nearprettiest if we really feel like it. I meangranted they do do their ugly troll dogimpressions of…
|
124755
|
today
somewhere by water
this photograph of a woman
|
124711
|
It had been a long night, a hard night. The sky had been filled with blackened clouds, patters of wind snapping and whipping like a pirate's flag hung at full mast. Rain beat…
|
124600
|
My obituary wasn't in the morning paper, so I headed to Target.
|
124642
|
At first he thought it was a cat she was holding, swathed in a white, fleece blanket
|
124600
|
Those eyes – they held a lost blue sadness that enveloped her and stopped her mid-movement.
|
124640
|
I remember some of the tight-fitting garments you wore, your looks seeping through them. The light blonde hairs at your neck and at your middle. Were we really expected to keep our hands off each other? It is foolish to think so. I know what I was think
|
124610
|
Since I have never found any mention of children that you may have had in your writings, I've been a little reluctant to tell you this story. It may be a touchy subject for you...I don't know. It's a lot of conjecture on my part, but there's one indispu
|
124611
|
They heard Chu’s voice, he was lying ten feet away, his skull opened up.
“Find my change,” was all he was saying. “I left my change around, look for it."
|
124642
|
blue plexiglass skateboard is holding the light of a turmeric sun. jacob turns it this way and that and lets it sit on its side atop parking curbs. denim legs canvas feet. looking down sign ridden streets and squinting. sometimes sun showers leak out. cotton…
|
124632
|
Lips touch briefly at first
|
124612
|
I dig with no light to guide the aim of my shovel but the stars peeking through the trees which are fuller now then when you went away.
|
124600
|
It was an unseasonably warm day in early spring when I first saw the man in the treehouse. The boys had just climbed onto the school bus, the older with shoulders hunched, weighted down with the gross unfairness of his early adolescent life, the younger still scribbling…
|
1246126
|
it's all a bit like the quiet steam
drifting to nowhere off my microwaved
hot coffee in the sunflower mug
|
124621
|
You looked innocent and
I
was the epitome of just that …
|
124511
|
In the sides of mountains the rivers rush through and who would stop them as they gain a hold on the world? For silences they keep just then, as if from a larger wisdom and different clock. Pink moons and funny coins with the heads of lions and lambs, and the quarter…
|
124587
|
In its own defense
against what is too concrete
the mind allows a magical thought--
|
1245108
|
Once with the lights flickering....
|
124500
|
“Okay, here is a wild idea. Let's each choose outfits from the second hand store for the other to buy and wear to a bar for a drink..."
Famous second to last words?
|
124511
|
What it was for, didn’t matter. When Susan walked into Fred’s house every few weeks and start talking, he’d just nod and say, “Sure, I know how tough it is out there, baby.” Then they’d drink some wine and put on some music, and he’d give her a little mon
|
124521
|
We all heard the audible skill you had, speaking smoothly of our lives, saying audibly what has driven us, who are huge with night, rising with its origin inside, and clear water running past, beyond, behind, and after us.
To honor, to fear utteranc
|
124588
|
Pity would have been appropriate. Yet, townsfolk whispered behind his back. Shouldn't he do something about it. So lazy. A gluttonous swine. Hadn't his mother kept him too long at tit, breastfeeding ‘til four? Look. Look at him now. A fat man. Our enormou
|
124574
|
One day, he decided instead to be-pet them,
|
124521
|
Mulvihill suspected, but could not prove, that the connection to all three murders and the three men was a painting
|
124531
|
|
