1203 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.
|
120321
|
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,…
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120284
|
Didn't usually go to the parade
because it was long and cold
But only a few blocks
from the apartment
Maybe if the sun had
warmed all up some
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120244
|
This is the hole I fell in. I can sort of crawl out of it now, but I must have fallen fastasleep in there. Does it really matter if it was for a long or a short time? Everyone is suddenly gone like a smile and replaced lately by sadly different versions…
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120200
|
I sat in the kitchen with the phone in my hand. The phone had just stopped ringing. When it rang, its screen lit up with the face of the caller. It vibrated and played a tune called "Dusk 2 Dawn." Now the kitchen was silent.
|
120242
|
Royce fell from Grace and landed in the fountain surrounding her pedestal. It wasn't the first time Royce had climbed the statue. It was the first time he'd been sober.
|
1202145
|
The darkness isn’t evil but invisible/
in the otherwise excellent light of day
|
120230
|
... if he planned to install them in their bedroom she would find them more than a little distracting.
|
120211
|
Marvin and first had met four years ago on an iron train peeling through the seething Asian night on rails between Bangkok and Chiang Mai city...
|
120251
|
Molly stared at the woman behind the desk with a headset attached to her head, and sighed.
|
120232
|
Palinode: A poem written to retract something said in a prior poem.
|
120233
|
It’s too early in the morning to play the glockenspiel. I’ll just sit here and knit this tiger.
|
120291
|
I can no longer conjure the sweetness of a plum
|
12011610
|
My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.
|
120100
|
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…
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120144
|
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…
|
120140
|
like a hundred cracks of thunder / or my brain seizing up, going all floppy on me ...
|
120100
|
Ben Clarone watched Dan Arris get into the Brighton Beach Car Service car and leave the departure zone of the Pan Am Worldport terminal at JFK. Ben’s rare all wood contrabass clarinet, which his repairman, Sal Frompini, had spent the last six hours adjust
|
120121
|
|
120143
|
I had the blues. I was feeling down the day the circus came to town. There was cash in my pocket and a bag of weed. I went to the circus with a desperate need to renew my faith in the good of mankind. Perhaps under the big top some laughs I’d find.
|
120094
|
His will is whole, inviolate,
and wholly full of possibility.
|
120075
|
|
120000
|
|
120040
|
The news just now that you are dead
|
120000
|
"Here's the bad news: you have to wear a patch over your eye for the next six weeks."
|
120076
|
Barbarians and savages wore feathers/
or frightful face paint or skin tones//
one could recognize and aim for/
with weapons one could feel
|
120055
|
I was supposed to write a history of the old world and expose the selfish ones who use their best kept love for evil against the good little witches of childhood, but it made no sense to me to go after them in that obvious a way. They…
|
120065
|
They were self-contained, two nymphs in a photo booth. Maria wanted something different—love to spread across her face like a wide smile, a certain grace. Sometimes she had found love like that at parties.
|
120032
|
He doesn't tell her that he is married, and that his five year old daughter who is living at your house has a mother back in that same city
|
120000
|
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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