1213 2 0
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How we segued from exploring the wind to eating a nitwit sandwich.
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121211
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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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121232
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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
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121200
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They shake, shake, while mouths say the words.
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121262
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I found a field
where all the
unanswered prayers
were once buried
but someone
someone
someone had
dug them up
again
and was putting
them
to good use
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1212145
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The darkness isn’t evil but invisible/
in the otherwise excellent light of day
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121253
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Soft rain, small rain, steady rain—
what the shrubs and tangled
young red oak tree need—
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121277
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It's true. I like to walk on the ceiling. But please. Don't hold it against me. The ceiling is cold. Nobody lives there. Just a spider. A curious arachnid. She lets herself down sometimes. If I'm on the bed, trying to sleep, staring at the ceiling, watching her…
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121255
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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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121244
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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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121232
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Let's put a cork in this drain.
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121200
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Coupling—why did I say that? Who says that? I mean the clacking together of bones, the willful splitting of fine and tender skin.
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121221
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121220
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We kidnap mothers of all sorts: old mothers, single mothers, young mothers (rarely), but we never do it for ransom. As a society we are adamantly opposed to the use of violence. Our mission is to remove mothers from environments they are not appreciated in, whether by their…
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121233
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At night, I watch TV shows with fictional characters who lead my life.
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121273
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To understand how and when things have gone wrong, it works best to proceed from the beginning and put them in order.
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121122
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Last night I met a man from the same littleshithole townthat you are fromand I kissed him in the mouth to find out if he tasted like coallike you do.While he slept, I tried to pinpoint on a map I drew on his back exactly how far apart you might have been:how many years…
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1211106
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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...
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121100
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Cody had a face, a still and shivering dark basement of a face, one with a negative intake that seemed like it was leaning at a downward angle, as if falling off of itself, or committing suicide, jumping off the edge of the world and leaving behind the su
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1211106
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121100
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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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121194
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Hilda Raz lost a daughter. Her son gained a persona, backed by biological components. I was impressed by his male-pattern baldness. A biological genius. And yet, I was reduced and in the elevator mentioned crying about it.
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121132
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Palinode: A poem written to retract something said in a prior poem.
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121100
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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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121100
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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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121100
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We're all just meat and atoms who can no more sense into the great beyond than a horse can fly a plane.
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121133
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I saw a big dog
By the side of the road
I saw a small deer
By the side of the road
A little maroon water in a glass
As I was driving home
Under darkness
With the wind that was under a rose
New blood will fill the earth
And we must lo
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121100
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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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1211168
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I'm panicking trying to think of the next line in this poem
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121166
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Look. There's just you and me, that's all that's left. All the rest of them had already given up a long, long time ago. They dropped their precious, colorful dreams like rusted railroad lanterns, like abandoned pumpkins, and littered the Twitching…
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