1207 12 8
|
fog settles over the mountain laying a ghostly blue shroud
|
120721
|
In certain sense most fractured in each part, the whole Resolves itself more central, but I sense no calm In the cyclone's eye, the forest of the soul, Where plants this eidolon of poisoned charm. This is the secret of the hurricanes, reaping Out from…
|
120721
|
The monsters in the sky burst with riotous laughter, their rumbling voices barking out commands, their cracked nails scratching on the screen, their knotted knuckles tap-taping on the window. Little girl, won't you come out to play? She clutches her floral bed sheets,…
|
120733
|
Cliffhanger Notes
Sexpot
Bunched Panties
Cereal Killer
Hello Kitty Litter
Canoodle
Named
Anonymous Clock
The Lizard of Oz
Luke Warm and the Cold Zippers
Megaschnauzer
Truffle-Snuffers
Pork-Pie Hats
Helium Chipmunks
Tender Is
|
120763
|
It's lunch in the car time at 5:30 pm
The car sits next to the mattress delivery truck
in hope of receiving a blanket of shade
|
120753
|
He went for long, quiet walks. These seemed to quell the seething rages swirling about him as he exhumed and reconstructed the truth of himself.
|
120700
|
Marie Poupon-Kennedy wasn’t strangled by one set of hands; there were thirty sets around that long, pale neck.
|
120795
|
|
120722
|
|
120733
|
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.
|
120700
|
“Gaudy talking, ordination, high finance and politicking won’t save you. Moshaka zumbrala!” screamed Pastor Cleon Wrunk.
|
120700
|
Son, could you please step out of the car?
|
120642
|
“Oh, I shouldn’t complain, I guess, but she did tend to get a leetle bit too caught up in that Hindernet thing, but I suppose that’s something younger people do today. Why, she didn’t even hear me when I would ask her for something! Can you imagine?”
|
120631
|
|
120610
|
The carnival passed through this hotel one time only, its boarded guests pretending to ignore the smell of outdoor whore in their bedding.
|
120687
|
Sometimes he would get up at night, go outside, and stand in the middle of their back yard.
|
120600
|
Slowly, she eased me
into my place
where I melted
into the dark seat
|
120611
|
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."
|
120600
|
Al-Sidran pulled out a switchblade knife from his pocket and proceeded to carefully cut open the box. Ben could tell it was razor sharp by the way it cut through the packing tape and cardboard.
|
120631
|
|
120621
|
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.
|
120663
|
Meeting the past an inevitable outcome (this inside a future fortune cookie). Shame pierces her like a sudden migraine.
|
120641
|
A woman I work with is always going on about her daughter is an expert water-skier and has a collection of antique thimbles and makes prize-winning congo bars.
|
120620
|
I think I know that fly
That fly followed us from our apartment
on W. 11th St
When I opened the door he flew right in
and when we left, he flew right out again
Followed us on the subway to Times Square
Took the Shuttle apparently
Followed
|
120652
|
Like the Lady Miss Kier, I believe in the power of love. I believe.
|
120600
|
|
120686
|
“Outis of Utopia” my found name! / I'll inscribe it soon as the tide goes out.
|
120622
|
In the black not dead of night, she gathers them; slowly,diligently placing the cansand bottles into two large plasticbags strung across a long piece of wood; this is her money work. She is small, but her bodyhas the choreography down:sift, search, lift,…
|
120533
|
He’s so stoned he’s in the zen zone,
Which is just beyond the end zone.
|
120520
|
For Derek, Remembering Odd Jaunts in Overtoun I here remembered how we smoked and swam Under the cadenced pleasure of our under-days, Congealing cross-thoughts under oaken breeze, And watched the Turnered ocean of that swarm Last…
|
