1227 2 2
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his eyes see blood as circumstance.
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122744
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Are all my words lonely, or nearly departed; decapitated; Visible only from the ankles down, nonchalant? I Get bored. All my words are not paying Strict attention to the television. I get dysfunctional. My words, coincidental though they…
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1227126
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it's all a bit like the quiet steam
drifting to nowhere off my microwaved
hot coffee in the sunflower mug
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122710
|
Two lovers — their genders / faces / social identities / etc. up to the viewer’s imagination (though I caution you, dear reader, not to imagine yourself in this role due to the psychic intensity of the following passages) — writhe against each other
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122700
|
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122711
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The old-timers at the Working Man’s Club wear a sheen of indifference every Wednesday night. Beneath the wafting, cresting mountains of burning cigarettes smoke, the train-track rattle of dominoes chipping at the dark wood tables in the corner, the consta
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1227118
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This is the place you need a third hand
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122711
|
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122754
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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.
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122776
|
Equality became the next goal, rendering gay redundant in describing marriage. Gaelic life is ringed with sharing and lent the word slogan.
|
1226199
|
it is said to make your manliness last forever
|
122622
|
Max understood this perfectly and could easily picture the slow-motion buckling of the spars and the accordion collapse of the fuselage as the propeller blades’ churned up the ground.
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1226138
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Humanity comes without a choice
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1226115
|
|
122610
|
The carnival passed through this hotel one time only, its boarded guests pretending to ignore the smell of outdoor whore in their bedding.
|
122610
|
The damaged lining of this awkward appellation is just bewitching, begging of the light test prod — OW! and then stern mastery: Introducing the cruelly hooked thumb with ragged nail, plunging up, ripping into and down…
|
122630
|
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…
|
1226115
|
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
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122600
|
The bedroom was still as our conversation dissolved into a heavy silence broken only by the ticking of the clock on her night table and the occasional sob that hadn't yet been swallowed in her pillow. I stubbed out my cigarette and leaned forward in…
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122600
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Heaven and hell. Hadley believed in neither. One way or another you’re a meal ticket for someone, best to be the one spending than the one being spent. The worms and insects are getting their meal ticket now, that’s for sure.
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122654
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I suspect I’ll make the right decision.
|
122600
|
|
122520
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Dancing at the pavilion leads to sex. A nectar builds up around the heart (damp curl of hair at the neck.) The heart does not know what it cannot have. It is dumb and does not know. But I, for one, hope that it never learns and becomes numb.
There i
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122500
|
I have hate and it is black not midnight, crisp fresh clear. Unadulterated. It is dirty, poor, gritty solid rough like unripe stone fruit. A peach, mealy and dry. The killing, effete, endures. Silent, my repugnance, sick, eats…
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122530
|
Kiln dried mummies, landscape of once were alpacas. / Now all the wool is farmed in Alva
|
122530
|
What was heinous about it was how easy I assumed it would be. That was truly heinous, and it was a mistake in the end to think of it that way. But I’ve learned from what’s heinous. I’ve bought a plastic cylinder filled with nylon zip ties. They’re great f
|
122541
|
Suddenly you've got something to do on Sundays -
Wake up early and dress your best.
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122541
|
She came to him with her arms open and a smile on her face; the kind of smile that assured him everything would be fine. He longed for that smile for months now; seeing her wearing that smile that he…
|
1225146
|
I am the ritual/
banalities of days numbered,/
numberless, and numb.
|
122501
|
On a cold, dark night near to All Hallows' Eve in October of 1930, I was summoned by Constable John Wakefield to the house of Vernalier Driscoll. The constable was wild-eyed and very nervous, his hair appeared to be standing on end.
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