1222 0 0
|
dove from the trenches, double-check
|
1222 1 0
|
We creep the hill, flat on our bellies through yellowed grass and stone, black dirt grimed on our bright faces like powdered war paint. We are sitting ducks as we approach, out in the open like this but Cobb believes no one will be watching this side; it
|
1222 0 0
|
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.
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1222 8 3
|
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1222 0 0
|
Everything I write is gold, he mused. My words spill onto the page like ambrosia, nectar of the gods, filling an empty vessel with immortal life.
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1222 16 8
|
I'm panicking trying to think of the next line in this poem
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1222 15 9
|
I am a housekeeper at a private women's college in upstate New York.
|
1221 2 0
|
I don’t understand what happened. I keep pushing your buttons but you won’t do anything. You just lie there, cold and dead, staring back at me without any light and I feel like I’m going to cry.
|
1221 1 1
|
A nursing home that doesn’t believe in antipsychotic drugs uses alternative methods to calm patients, including a llama named Travis who walks through the halls.
|
1221 7 6
|
Barbarians and savages wore feathers/
or frightful face paint or skin tones//
one could recognize and aim for/
with weapons one could feel
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1221 3 2
|
Palinode: A poem written to retract something said in a prior poem.
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1221 4 4
|
The world hasn't ended. Your part in it is still ongoing. The going on world hasn't winked out. Every possibility is still out there. In there, out there, it doesn't matter where you are. The here and now claims you for its only tribe. They only want someone to tell them…
|
1221 6 5
|
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…
|
1221 0 0
|
We're all just meat and atoms who can no more sense into the great beyond than a horse can fly a plane.
|
1221 1 0
|
I found Mathew face down, cold and ridged like a plastic doll. I had overslept because he never cried—never told me he was hungry. Rodney had to peel my arms from around my son so the paramedics could take him in a blaze of flashing red and white lights.…
|
1221 3 3
|
It’s too early in the morning to play the glockenspiel. I’ll just sit here and knit this tiger.
|
1221 10 5
|
As far as I knew it was just an old man and his wife who lived in this house, but not really. I mean if you had seen what every person on that block had, you would have realized that many lived there, well many beings.
|
1221 2 1
|
|
1221 15 11
|
When the compost thaws the past oozes out into the present....
|
1221 0 0
|
"Excuse me, ma'am? You wanted the mayonnaise on the side, right?"No one ever called her ma'am again.
|
1221 3 2
|
rinse
plate cup glass spoon
bowl soapy water
|
1221 14 7
|
But you can have a lap dance.
|
1220 1 1
|
The name he was using this time was Paul Sterling.
|
1220 2 1
|
Listening to old friends speak the same way, the same things tells me they have been dead a long time. They are in their form of living, their self, there is no new season of growth. I witness each of them continue on the same path because it is familiar
|
1220 4 3
|
Gun Notches
Working Stiffs
Garlic Torch
Dog Crouch
Menbrain
Membrane
Ein Zwei Drei
Fake German Soldier
Wet Tissue
Tissue Paper Pants
Tough Stain
Adam and Evil
Closed Loophole
Wait For It
Fiscal Cliff and the Cliffhangers
Repu
|
1220 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—
|
1220 9 7
|
I'm writing you this letter played on a cherry flute. I'm sending it along through the poem's cloud of incense. The only delivery system I still hitch up for long distance pitching. I'm writing you a letter you'll probably never read. Never…
|
1220 0 0
|
Late last night down at Jim's Saloon
Everyone expected that the last balloon
Would go Boom! The one they all saw coming
And Lady Liberty would send the bad guys running
|
1220 0 0
|
At the week's end, memories may come to you Of weekends same as those just gone before, That fade away from seeing as a tide's grey flue, That vanishes once travelled to a shifting shore: Still, hope you'll know a girl for an hour anew, One who fades…
|
1220 2 1
|
and i start
screaming.
i check the damage in my rearview
mirror
but there's nothing.
|