1229 5 3
|
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.
|
122900
|
That’s where her reputation Wild Cat came from.
|
122922
|
|
122921
|
You looked innocent and
I
was the epitome of just that …
|
122800
|
My obituary wasn't in the morning paper, so I headed to Target.
|
122842
|
At first he thought it was a cat she was holding, swathed in a white, fleece blanket
|
122820
|
I normally don't photograph well, but today – well, today's different.
|
122822
|
Going to Atlanta 6AM Despite all the issues presented by Delta this morning (the rescheduling of my 7am flight at 1am to a flight at 10, giving me a two minute layover time in Detroit, and my eventual own rescheduling of my flight to 6am, and waiting…
|
122843
|
I know I was hungry, she says
to herself, maybe.
I was hungry for what
you had to offer. Your
fast car, your dad’s
ski boat, your prettiness,
your beautiful mouth,
your eyes, and yes for
the joy you could give me
between the legs.
B
|
122863
|
Meeting the past an inevitable outcome (this inside a future fortune cookie). Shame pierces her like a sudden migraine.
|
122841
|
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.
|
122800
|
Do you think your mom would come out and take off her shirt, the way Brandi Chastain did the last time the U.S. women won the World’s Cup?
|
122874
|
I was disappointed with love, and like everyone else, stammered out of love
into a place horrified with meaning.
|
122700
|
...I made the mistake, thinking the point of a maze was to go in one side and out the other.
|
122711
|
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…
|
122750
|
The banality of his own state of boredom, a luxury to be satiated with violence, to hack with an axe the exposed neck of his friend.
|
122711
|
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."
|
122743
|
-- as if I had / only rung the rusted bell --
|
122700
|
Rains came again and wore away at their flesh, revealing bone as white and sharp as sharks’ teeth.
|
122775
|
I thought I heard
Follow your heart
On the cold, cold
Night of the soul
I thought I heard
Follow your heart, follow your heart
On this coldest night
Of the soul
Leaves on fire, leaves on fire
They told me look
Into the flames
To
|
122700
|
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…
|
122700
|
I strolled mindlessly along the concrete pavement, the cool breeze carrying the characteristic scent of the night. I stared at the path ahead, but not really looking. My legs continued their automated operations. I didn't know where I was going, but that was all right - I…
|
122700
|
|
122786
|
“Outis of Utopia” my found name! / I'll inscribe it soon as the tide goes out.
|
122732
|
|
122655
|
Every six weeks or so, he and I would argue. I would argue. He would listen. He raised me twenty-five cents each time. I suppose that is a bad habit for me to have gotten into—to get pissed about rates and to fight to get a raise.
|
1226114
|
When were you flash frozen?
|
1226102
|
...cinched the handcuffs.
|
122632
|
They call me Curiosity and I am curious. I am also a robot. Please. Don't judge me. Robots are not all stupidly obedient, bubble headed twits with whirring gears, lithium batteries, and nanocrystalline electrodes. I have a temperature. I have self-monitoring…
|
122620
|
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…
|
