1291 2 1
|
Is death like standing in a room at night and turning off the lights? You would still hear your breathing. You hold your breath. Silence. Darkness. Yet you feel gravity, your feet on the floor. Then the air brushes your skin. Remove the air,…
|
129000
|
Popular wisdom would have it that heroin addicts are some kind of cross between vampire menace and low-rent cartoon.
|
129022
|
The rain falls soft after a hard weekend.
|
129022
|
By the basement washtubs, I watched him skin a squirrel:
|
129043
|
A novel is an idea that has
Survived many severe beatings
While a poem is a homely thing that was
Never even asked to the dance
Art Speak, however, is the art of
Systematically overstating and
Re-inventing the Obvious to the point of
Distr
|
129001
|
I remembered every noun and matching verb,
Simple sentences only, two words divided by a line,
|
129066
|
Tell me how beautiful I am and I'll dance for you Tell me how much you love my smile and I'll kiss you softly Paint a picture of me and I will lie still Let me see your smile and watch me exhale Rock me back and forth and my eyes close I see rocky shores and…
|
129032
|
Palinode: A poem written to retract something said in a prior poem.
|
129000
|
The way horizons disappear in the dark.
|
129000
|
CHAPTER ONE About nine-thirty P.M. on Friday night, Mary Fowler pushed her grocery cart through the double sliding glass doors. It was three weeks before Christmas. The sun had set and the temperature had begun to cool rapidly in…
|
129065
|
“Tell me how sad they are.”
|
129040
|
Bipolar. Schizophrenic. Alcoholic.
Addicted. Abused. A reader?
|
128920
|
I have one, but I want another,
A little greedy perhaps.
She's my obsession, my indiscretion,
My little judgment lapse.
|
128987
|
Sometimes he would get up at night, go outside, and stand in the middle of their back yard.
|
128910
|
They say nothing, but instead watch the birds and people hovering. Every day is an echo of the one before, and the weight of waiting has begun to show itself in the stature of the tiny man and his little old wife. …
|
128932
|
The coach told the player, number 21, to stand in front of the net in order to distract the opposing team's goaltender and to block the view, to 'screen' him as it were. 21 did so, and did it well. There were defensemen that gave him much trouble by hitting his legs and…
|
128911
|
"... A set of vertebrae disintegrate and a woman falls face first into her dinner plate."
|
128921
|
How does Bandie feel about snakes? This is my thought. What good is a serpent without venom?
|
128997
|
The summer I was eleven years old....
|
128900
|
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…
|
128833
|
|
128876
|
Marcel Proust had never been to a big-box store before. He was dazzled by the sheer size and scope of the store and the seeming impassivity of the shoppers. So many products, so many shelves, such strangely intriguing examples of the human condition. The people seemed…
|
128800
|
the dark brown cloaked warden stands on his lofty perch
|
128832
|
The boys were his biggest nuisance. The unwashed guttersnipes poured into the park early, all shoeless and half shirtless. He only imagined how thick the fleas must be in their thick tangle of hair, of which only two didn’t have covered with a cap with an
|
128862
|
Since then I have come to feel his absence and feel that it might be time to try and write about this again. I used to spend a great deal of time managing things on facebook for a very large group with over 10,000 members. While some might not understand
|
128853
|
Hey Sledge!
Yo.
Did you know Socrates hated the idea of writing thoughts down? He said it weakened the memory…made us lazy.
Say wha?
That's why he never wrote a book. The only way we know about him is through his student Plato's writing. St
|
128800
|
the lazy leaves of a parlour palm finger
lavender in a wine bottle.
|
128800
|
. . . 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.
|
128811
|
Bullets and cars can kill in the cityThe weather doesn't feel rightIt was hot yesterday.And has now gotten coolerThe wind blows heavy,And it's rainingThe sky has turned greenAs people sit down to hearThe news reports on the radioThe tornado might hit us,Everyone seems to…
|
128755
|
Already past the harbinger of yellow crocus
|
