1262 2 0
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He will later claim he knows nothing of the girl’s disappearance and that I was the last one seen with her, which will unfortunately be true but not the real story…
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126200
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they could be barefoot bastard children
for somebody else to clothe
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126230
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The falcon cannot hear the falconer. The rain comes down in sheets.
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126211
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A Boston company has created a humanoid robot named “Baxter” that performs manufacturing tasks and gets a confused look on its face when it needs something.
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126222
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his eyes see blood as circumstance.
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126220
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Fabulous birds perched nearby, where we were. In their memory there goes the little god, original, in the midst of it all, happiness like anything near the river-mouth. Letting yourself dabble in the femaleness of it. In the lower world or on the playin
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126221
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In the tang of winter warm
and summer cool,
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1261118
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youthful pin oaks grant solemn attention to the aluminum gurney
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126182
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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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126112
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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
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12611610
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My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.
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126197
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We’re heading to a
Poetry reading when my wife
Says “You owe me one”
Coming back from the
Poetry reading, my wife says
“You owe me, big time”
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126140
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“This isn’t fair!” I rail to my late wife. “It’s all right for you, why not me?” She never answers me directly. Not in whispers, or with knocks, or even dreams.
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126100
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Most keep their eyes closed. Some look up at the cloud covering the kneeling ecclesiastical trash perched high. Others look around, overly warm.
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12611810
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But if He makes you happy, stands/
as bulwark against the vast, indifferent/
and deadly universe, then cling to Him
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126142
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That morning in the driving rain a sequence of automobiles appeared on the streets in the region with headlights in the form of television monitors
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1261107
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By the time the third car disappeared, Bud had noticed sudden lulls in the breeze, rain microbursts from otherwise blue skies, cold humid calms that trailed him around the junk.
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126184
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When the sailor heard the 2nd
World War had just ended
He grabbed the woman in the white dress
Bent her backwards in Times Square
And kissed her real good
And the photographer
Just happened to be there
At the right moment
But then
As
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126165
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"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one for my own. For nobody that I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…
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126100
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. . . 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.
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126110
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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.
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126111
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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…
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126121
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[WARNING: THIS FILM CONTAINS PROLONGED SEX SCENES OF AN EXTREMELY EXPLICIT NATURE AND SCENES OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, WHICH SOME VIEWERS MAY FIND SHOCKING AND DISTURBING.]
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1261129
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Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…
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1260106
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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...
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126020
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Time is a form of sandwich. Each component of the sandwich is nestled between night and day, which enclose it like slices of bread. There are minutes, hours, and seconds. Seconds are tiny, like sesame seeds. Minutes are a little larger. Think of them as p
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126020
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One Private View, four couples, not all of whom are adulterous.
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1260126
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I could have a minor stroke.
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125900
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VIII. Towards Affinities, Beyond My love, since I saw you last, since before we reached the chamber, I cannot count the quasars which have passed, but there still gleams Time, Like a memory of a lost event unwitnessed, and this illusion Carried…
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125931
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