1152 8 2
|
I’d met this crowd of drunken poets from San Francisco
Even though this was smack dab in the middle of winter
Smack dab in the middle of the flattened Illinois plains
Why they all left San Francisco I’ll never completely understand
But there we we
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1152 2 0
|
Fortunately not all of the stars are represented in the sky, which is already filled enough with them, or their influence. Two separate swirling rivers of light are flowing into the picture as it is. And each of the stars and the crescent moon are pregn
|
1152 8 5
|
I do that now. And I shiver. My mom's eyes don't seem to have any expression. They look lifeless. Her eyes look...
dead.
Stop it, Alison, I tell myself. You're being stupid.
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1152 2 2
|
The rain falls soft after a hard weekend.
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1152 6 5
|
I’ll take my Christmas carols neat-
|
1152 0 0
|
What would people say about me? He was immoderately adrift. Maybe pathologically narcissistic. A shame he dumped Gina, the best he ever did. In essence, a man-child.
|
1152 0 0
|
Th heeet frum mye skin on ers wus mehsidge eenuff.
|
1152 3 0
|
They take the blue man out on a stretcher, stiff in cyanotic repose until the paramedics shake him. He sits bolt upright, startled, confused, indignant. ‘Lazarus?' I ask. ‘Argyria. Happens every fucking time he naps on the …
|
1152 2 0
|
If you were looking for her
She's in the backwoods
grafting your skin
from her thighs
|
1152 0 0
|
. . . he's of mixed race. Along with European blood, he's got Mexican Indian and African blood. Here's the irony. He don't look nothing like a white European man but he thinks like one.
|
1152 8 6
|
“Outis of Utopia” my found name! / I'll inscribe it soon as the tide goes out.
|
1152 1 1
|
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1152 29 18
|
It was in the last expulsion/explosion (theories differ) that we became OneWith. Tsunami. Seism. Zud. All matter cast out outcast came back like a gangster on crack. What did it think it was? Who do we think we are? It thinks we think it thinks…
|
1152 0 0
|
Less than a week ago, I was still a republican. It’s strange what an invitation for a job interview at the Palace does with your principles.
I’m especially nervous because the interview’s late in the afternoon. I could go to the be
|
1151 15 8
|
I haven't felt my soul leave my body
|
1151 0 0
|
We watched through the plate glass window, like kids watching a mother guppy eat her young. A woman approached the sweaters but stopped suddently, as if she sensed the dark force Darth Vader projects in Star Wars movies.
|
1151 5 3
|
accidental ground/
for index-fingered figures
|
1151 6 6
|
This is not her death. This is absent-minded omniscience. This is impossible. And then again, the inside-out, implosion. And the hall was clogged with bodies; none of them hers, but who could be sure?
|
1151 3 1
|
Two titans move
opposite one another
|
1151 5 1
|
|
1151 0 0
|
-Ben, you mean you could get whacked for a couple of paintings?
-Well, Gabe, there's more to it than a couple of paintings, but my lips are sealed.
|
1151 0 0
|
I saw magic for the first time when I was eight, on the day Jeremy Chendo showed me that paper cranes can fly.
|
1151 3 3
|
At night, I watch TV shows with fictional characters who lead my life.
|
1151 0 0
|
The lights are dimAnd love's the mood tonight.Enveloped by DarknessPierced by rays of light;That black dressto meis pure delight.Dancing together,Arm in arm,arm over shoulder;I promiseI won't get any bolder.Eyes meet eyesYour lips against mine.My heart is pounding,Sweet…
|
1151 5 0
|
Bitter the sun when it is in Hades
High fans meaning nothing keep the heat down
but the nitre keeps burning
So glows the gloss and high sheen on the skin
Foreheads exhibit thought
though the eyes are crossed
and at night, butterflies i
|
1151 1 0
|
colors dancing on metric vectors
|
1150 1 2
|
Tom wasn’t crying.
A few snowflakes, the first of the season, flittered down and landed on Elizabeth’s new headstone, christening it. Tom didn’t have his topcoat, and he never buttoned his suit. He tried not to shiver. Lynn lifted her face from Tom’s c
|
1150 0 0
|
We used to have a saying: steal an old lady’s pocketbook and you’ll go to jail, steal her pension and you’ll go to the Ritz.
|
1150 11 5
|
Hardly a soul could pin him for creating the vehemence that found a streamule to her pen if she wrote in cursive or a fanjet to her keyboard if she typed quickly and satisfyingly in print, employing eight fingers and two thumbs—
|
1150 7 4
|
One day, he decided instead to be-pet them,
|