1142 7 4
|
—A little blood puts some life into the work, said the old artisan smiling.
|
114263
|
“Professor Gosser,”continued Victor, “I once screwed three women in a row--I mean of course, time, not space—good one, huh? Well, each woman farted at the exact moment she climaxed. Would that qualify as coincidence? And did it have anything to do with th
|
114211
|
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
|
114200
|
Slowly, she eased me
into my place
where I melted
into the dark seat
|
114220
|
When I was nine years old, I fell through the rotting
boards that covered my grandmother's cesspool and nearly
drowned.
|
114252
|
If I was a bum
I’d risk everything
For a drink or a smoke.
I would beg and curse and steal
If I was a bum.
If I was a bum
I would cuss out the Pope.
I would not vote for anyone
Because I would know truly
They’d be telling gross lies.
|
114230
|
this orient tide come occident: this roll of wreck and reckoned eyes that fathomless are found or made to find her keep within the tight shut shell in soundings deeper than the plumblined soul these western waves gone east: these…
|
114222
|
The family castle, Krivoklat, pronounced something like sheevoklat,
where my maternal grandmother’s family ran a hotel,
was founded in 1109 A.D.
(how long our family ran the hotel business is anybody’s guess,
taken over by the Nazi’s, then the C
|
1142115
|
In which era was it not a scary world?/
Last century, the perils were both red and yellow/
after Jerry was undone. Now, they’re brown/
and cross, without respect, the Rio Grande
|
114200
|
I hear you calling me, as if through water spilled within a glass--
|
114254
|
The kind of poem poets write and read. I mean, hey I was feelin’ it HARD at 3:24 am, and this is what spilled out.
|
114255
|
|
114200
|
Take a flying leap?Mother would never agreeSo away from the campground we sneakTo show the boy where I was a boySummer day shirtless with swimsuits onOne hundred degrees walking through the treesThe season early with winter runoffWater here still seventy feet deepHoping the…
|
114200
|
|
114220
|
During the night and in the fog of halfsleep Ben shifted and felt the weight of Miranda gone from him, the bed empty. In the quiet of the house he thought he heard a footstep and the soft shutting of a door, and as his eyes searched the dark he…
|
114254
|
I have constructed this emotion with tinfoil and stilts. I wear the mask of a typewriter. I have roots in Minnesota. I have a glass hat and a junkyard monstrosity pregnant with parables.
|
114243
|
I'm re-invented on Main St. every single day.
|
114154
|
The renegade states- Virginia, Georgia,/
Texas, and the rest- should have lost their names
|
114142
|
He saw in her something fierce and wild
and gently led her to
his open palm...
|
114122
|
The son stood on the porch with his grip packed. "I'm off to mine me a fortune a gold, Daddy." "Boy, there's a fortune in gold right here," said the father, indicating the ripe wheat, glowing in early morning sun. The kid slumped. "Pop, you turn over a rock there,…
|
114122
|
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…
|
114164
|
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…
|
114100
|
The woman wrings her hands again and again, reaching up to place one under her chin, then to her cheek as though there is some pending trepidation no one else can see...
|
114120
|
It is no coincidence that the bossa nova craze coincided with the years in which I achieved my greatest romantic success--first through sixth grades.
|
114112
|
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.
|
114133
|
“C'mon Billy, don't be s-s-s-s-scared.' said the voice coming from under the bed. Billy looked over the side and saw a pale white, bony right hand with it's forefinger beckoning him protruding out from below. The nails were yellowed and cracked. And long. Very, very…
|
114110
|
skin is soft and too easily sliced away
|
114110
|
I think of particles exploding, coming back together like some physics experiment I don’t know the name for. “Large Hadron Collider,” you say. But that’s not what I mean.
|
114143
|
This grey is going to kill me
|
114100
|
Monday MorningI wake slowly. My breath still escapes me. He's asleep on the sofa, legs hanging, hand hanging, lips hanging, a river of saliva somewhere. He tries to be the one that's okay when I'm not, but really he's just as bloody as I am. I wait til he starts to…
|
