1310 0 0
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We didn't know what what we were reading meant. We didn't even know if we were reading it right. In fact, we suspected that we probably were not.
|
131020
|
I find that I am keeping silent more often. I don't like repeating myself.
|
131054
|
proper words fail to get proper points across . . . truthful words have no beauty,/beautiful words have no truth.
|
131060
|
After too much
I had forgotten how to fly.
There was a small owl with me
on the old dirt road by the wind.
It was a very dark gray,
like an ash.
Its beak moved, it opened and shut,
opened and closed,
but I had also forgotten the language
|
131000
|
Another subject of interest is "furverts"--"individuals who engage in sexual activity while dressed in animal costumes."
|
131051
|
I change things without notice for himto make sure he's ready for the corporate world. It's no longer our goal to watch cartoonswe must now focus on breakfastthenaction figures. "But Daddy," he says. "I likecartoons." "I know it hurts," I say."But…
|
131000
|
She looked out the window. It was raining. “Better than snow” she told herself. She didn’t mind traveling. It was good to travel once in a while. By road, when someone else was driving. Like now, on the bus back home. It gave you time to reflect, re
|
130931
|
The waitress appears and Fred gives her a big smile and th3 once over. It's no wonder he's had so many women in his life while I've . . . uh . . . read a lot of books.
|
130931
|
What do you do
when a Shirelle asks you
if you’re in the mood to dance?
|
130912
|
The Sunday sunset slowly simmers the sea.
|
130900
|
They do exist though. They have for centuries and when one comes forward and is vocal and authentic, it pays to give a listen. How to know if they are authentic? They charge nothing, they fear nothing and they merely exist in the world, just as you and I
|
130900
|
Once upon a mind-flight
Leary with the tripping became weary
Of the psychedelic travel
Felt the universe unravel
|
130921
|
Ben’s tactic for diverting Monique’s thoughts from the encounter with Zoë and the horrific episode in his dressing room was to dance, dance, dance.
|
130900
|
The concourse had become his second home, he knew it that well. His fellow passengers were the houseguests he couldn't get rid of, the workers at the restaurants and gift shops a personal…
|
130942
|
Urban skunks want to visit your neighborhood and be bold in your neighborhood.
|
130952
|
Like the Lady Miss Kier, I believe in the power of love. I believe.
|
130951
|
|
130900
|
-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.
|
130911
|
The ride home after Basketball and a little beer; That's when the best poems happen. Poems pin-prick sharp Puncturing through dulled Senses while streetlamps pass Overhead. They find their way inside you But they don't stick. Poems left back somewhere On the…
|
130900
|
“You're right by the mall, the cultural district, and just a few minutes from downtown,” the realtor smiled. “And it's on a bus line?” the wife asked. “Yes it…
|
130911
|
She looked over from the passenger seat at her husband and smiled. It had been twenty years. She hadn't expected him to remember. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, placed her hand on his thigh.“We'll be home soon enough,” he said. He was not…
|
130900
|
When I wake, I wonderwhat leaves the smile haunting my lips.There is only a ghostly remnant of your eyes, your touch, your kiss. Now I long for the Sea of Dreams,but my body is here imprisoned.Awake, I cannot reach you.The ship has departed; the tides have…
|
130923
|
Don’t worry, she said
It’s not blonde down there
But she is wrong
It’s just as blonde down there
As anywhere
The light down along her arms
For instance
The down along her cheek
On the back of her neck
Her thighs
Apparently I am n
|
130875
|
|
1308104
|
There’s not enough time because we come back to the things we never learn and forget them.
|
1308126
|
I could have a minor stroke.
|
130812
|
The women, I think,
Handle it better than
The men.
The men just stare
Straight ahead
Vacantly
Hollow-eyed
Lonely.
The women more
Fulfilled by their lives,
Having always
Expressed their love.
The men,
Not so much.
And find
|
130843
|
I'm looking for the perfect/passage, a safe, sound/jettison to now.
|
130854
|
No one has the right/
to script how someone dies.
|
130820
|
Poets die every day but are seldom in position to put the experience to literary merit.
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