1308 5 4
|
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.
|
130810
|
The sun was a red beet and it waited low in the sky but I didn't know for what reason. You could look right at it and forget for an instant about tenement buildings and hydro lines, or the dirty city in general. I tied my shoes and got some water…
|
130833
|
I thought
we ended things a long time ago
|
130821
|
My man’s got a habit that’s kinda strange.
I’ve got a feeling he’s never gonna change.
Whenever I take a trip,
when I git back, my underwear’s ripped.
|
130863
|
What was it about the aged and cookies? Here was another one that relished them. Sebastian's grandmother was a specialist. People on the outside thought she was a bird enthusiast. Grandma could be seen refilling the bird feeders at all hours. After the morning…
|
130833
|
Two Roman busts have come down to us, both copies of supposed earlier Greek originals, from the 4th. century BC.
|
130800
|
I am brave, I am sexy, I am strong
|
130782
|
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
|
130750
|
The banality of his own state of boredom, a luxury to be satiated with violence, to hack with an axe the exposed neck of his friend.
|
130700
|
We never meant to gain their confidence only to outgrow them. They were once our best friends, the ones who listened, the ones who understood or sat across from us so we could see them nod. They leaned…
|
130775
|
We are impressed and cheer them on/
in their struggle against the wild/
and unkempt ravages of nature
|
130722
|
Where I sit here clad in armour by the stars, I do not think of you; those thoughts are over. Beneath the silver here is light enough, To make me ponder by a lighter way. Beyond the bronze óf our sun and the others That haply rein the…
|
130751
|
Every time I look at you there are two dumb mouths that slip between stretch marks.
|
130720
|
That September, he had enjoyed drinks in the company of now-dead utopians.
|
130700
|
|
130700
|
People think being the best-selling author of the Pokey Little Bunny™ series of children’s books is nothing but cream-filled cupcakes, but they’re wrong.
|
130711
|
Anastomose my veins to / yours so we may / share // a dream pooled between us
|
130600
|
Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into
White uncertainty.
|
130630
|
Kiln dried mummies, landscape of once were alpacas. / Now all the wool is farmed in Alva
|
130633
|
It's early spring and rains leave miniature ponds not deep but attractive to a Drake and Mallard pair moving into the neighborhood settling quacking down. Not sensing transience in their comfortable puddle they get on swimmingly bottom…
|
130600
|
“How about licensed-character theme funerals for kids who die young?” I asked, broaching a sensitive subject. “Do you think they’re”–I hesitated–”a money maker?”
|
130665
|
Not sure I remember what's important, but I remember you. That's the whole problem I think. You're a drain where all my words wind up going down. All of them get lost inside of you. Eventually. And I'm left with nothing to say. Because all my words are…
|
130620
|
I thought that was the last day of the world (when I floated up near your ceiling,) but it was the first. I thought I had seen the worst. But that was nothing. I know you had no idea what was coming when I first met you. But when we looked in each other
|
130632
|
Sometimes the universe is a coin flipping so fast it’s hard to see which side is polished and shiny.
|
130689
|
When he saw me, he jumped faster and faster, wild like something rabid.
|
130522
|
As being ebbs it deepens. The mind grows truant. We inhabit a permanent Saturday.
|
130511
|
Well, it looks like I’ll be having a stem-cell transplant after all...
|
130521
|
Mulvihill suspected, but could not prove, that the connection to all three murders and the three men was a painting
|
130541
|
Suddenly you've got something to do on Sundays -
Wake up early and dress your best.
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