1195 1 1
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I held the steam and scrubbed it. How do you do that? asked Willy. How do you scrub steam? It is so, you know, diaphanous. I said to Willy, because Willy was a good man and listened with both ears, we adapt to the heart's convulsions. I send my grammar to a…
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119576
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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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119544
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Through the lonely night
All the roads are breathing
While somewhere on the road
The American soul lies bleeding
The past is all in yellow
The future’s all in blue
While living in the moment
Has lost its rosy hue
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119553
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Soft rain, small rain, steady rain—
what the shrubs and tangled
young red oak tree need—
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119555
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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…
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119544
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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…
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119540
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like a hundred cracks of thunder / or my brain seizing up, going all floppy on me ...
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119500
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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
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119533
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It’s too early in the morning to play the glockenspiel. I’ll just sit here and knit this tiger.
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119583
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119501
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Snow is falling like ashes. I know they're hot and cold. One leaves black streaks on my cheeks, the other tears. Maybe the ashes were falling with the snow, not enough water to put out the fire, just to stir the embers. If you screamed I couldn't…
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119551
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"I love you.”“Night.”Back at the screen door she answers “What?” I stand under her nose and say “Box is out of juice.” Inside she sits me on the black and white polka-dotted sofa we make love around here and there.…
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119454
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119441
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“Namaste,” I say as I hand the guy his ticket. “The divinity within me salutes the divinity within you. Have a nice freaking day.”
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119420
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Nothing came of the dust.
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119432
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Palinode: A poem written to retract something said in a prior poem.
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119465
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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.
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119432
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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
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119394
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His will is whole, inviolate,
and wholly full of possibility.
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119300
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When I was 14 I accidentally heard a woman saying behind my back
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119300
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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
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1193139
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119300
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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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119330
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You're trying to attract visitation in a small quarter with pearls in both your lobes. Only half of what you say is true. The red lipstick shines through like a brad on white paper, a voice, soprano. The half I tend to appreciate squanders & squalls. This is the ride…
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119311
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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…
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119320
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Loss and awakening are irrevocable. Love and grief are one.
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119275
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119244
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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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119200
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119243
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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
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