876 2 2
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Spilled milk it is --lactate of common desire;water under the bridge, slow-moving, white. So this is what we feed on: the past and present here for the licking.Sweat is water too,for the hungry, and any past will do. Parched mouths kiss just as well as…
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87532
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87511
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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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875179
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The cornbread for dressing cools./
The cranberries boil with one cup each/
of sugar and water. The aromas are nice
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87530
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Deciding what is important from the life of a man that you haven't spoken to in ten years was a task that had seemed impossible at the outset. But now, here she stood, having done just that.
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87522
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There's a potent multimedia declaration Flying eagles starred and striped Mocking cartoon independence Where every promise shines Not every veteran's hero Chequered drug misuse Glorious public relations Concealed a…
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87500
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Bloggers venomously characterized Mitt as a "bumper sticker Patriot", the kind of coward who wraps himself up in a flag, puts a bumper sticker on his car, sings the national anthem at the top of his lungs and is the first person to yell out "Freedome Isnt
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87520
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Still worried. I could use some more hope in my oatmeal.
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87521
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While you sleep, I wait for you to die.
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87554
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No one has the right/
to script how someone dies.
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87543
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The boy wasn’t raised this way.
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87500
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I wrinkled my face up
in the glare and warmth of the sun.
I baked easy in the hovering heat
and my spot-speckled skin ate
up the rays and swallowed deeply.
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87500
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He marvelled at himself. How his decision and the consequential action, could free him up, make him almost jolly, almost well. He didn't give a fig for his lack of money and inability to pay his rent, he didn't care anymore that he was no longer inspired
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87510
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“What if every cloud you saw carried a bit of hope?” she said to the window, looking out at a rolling storm. There's something peaceful about stormy weather when you're inside. Stormy weather. It almost sounds quaint. “Well?” she said,…
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87500
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Would you take a job living in a computer? What if you had to?
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87463
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Memory is unreliable, of course-/
re-coloring savored scenes-/
paler here, more saturated there-
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87499
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Although I'm twenty years older than her, my girlfriend has called me "jailbait" for the past year and a half because she says the only way to stop having to share me is to kill my wife..
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87475
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They hunger for new real estate/
and those resources underground
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87487
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In its own defense
against what is too concrete
the mind allows a magical thought--
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87487
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Everything is at sixes and sevens.
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87430
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She meets her old dance instructor, named Ira, in the back of a bus that wheezes & squeaks. The passengers seem to deny the small clouds of white exhaust
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87400
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Sea of indifference
Coming and going
Never committing
Like a fickle lover that erodes a hopeful heart
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87433
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out in space/ platonic forms/ dazzle with/ voluptuous grace
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87466
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Deists try to prove the existence of God. I do not doubt God nor evidence of the existence of Jesus nor Jesus' miracles. I merely wish there were more people like him
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87431
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I just amuse myself by buying old guns and refurbishing them in my basement as I listen to old Bohemian polkas on cassettes.
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87400
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Oh Captain, Good Captain I went where you asked of me But now I'm back home And things are so clear to me The liquors been drained So my eyes have dried finally I'm seeking her out So her voice can stop haunting me When I see his face I'll…
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87430
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The concrete guy’s truck is parked in front of your house. There’s nothing for him to be doing there except your wife.
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87474
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Women can often be found
Sizing up each others’ tits
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87421
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I had a dream, I remember, where I am in this painting, Luncheon on the Grass. My dress was thrown off and the picnic basket, filled with bread and fruit, is spilled out upon it, and I am sitting nude on my underclothing, with two gentlemen fully dresse
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87485
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Mom would dig through one of her music boxes to pick out Saturday morning's cleaning jams. Tattered, battered Payless shoeboxes with lids ripped to shit, filled to capacity with piles of cassettes; greatest hits albums, mostly, or Time Life compilations of mid-to-late…
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