1267 11 8
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Gestures we would like to make in the solitude of a café terrace ... Early in the morning ... She's sitting there, seems shivering. Grey dress, red scarf. Her eyes move. I try to meet them - small, vague black clouds which pass, without resting, by mine. She drinks her…
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126756
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Oh it's another one of those strange thrill rides slowly building from a buzz saw whisperinto cool morning's consciousness, coming on and crawling through the moon's mattress like a silver stream and under the dented pillow where…
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126643
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And what about: there's this signature dessert at the restaurant where you are eating and it is called DEATH BY CHOCOLATE? And you know it is, because you've had it, and wow.
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126622
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On the days I wasn’t there, my insides felt like paper-mâché.
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126622
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They’ve got the tourists
On the top deck of the bus
Wrapped up in large yellow
Plastic garbage bags
Riding through the City in the rain
The yellow bags flapping in the wind
Yelling in the numerous languages
At the top of the world
The to
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126652
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The rest is Scots,
people for whom a taste is enough
and a lyric’s as rare as a dragon
or a poet named MacDuff.
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126600
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Air. But fire against the air. An interruption in the blue sky otherwise. Painted without a spread blemish or problem. Now there is a problem. I am roused from sleep. Sister says, Look. Look. Jacob wake up. What? A truck is on fire. What is? A…
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1266103
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The memory fades so quickly, It makes me wonder if it ever really happened? Then I have to create something new from scratch to fill the space Yeah, there are patterns, and sudden movements that pass for recollections, but couldn't they as…
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126695
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126600
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Th heeet frum mye skin on ers wus mehsidge eenuff.
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126622
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That evening, my friend and I were at a McDonalds'. It was late in the evening, and we got together after she sent me a text message she meant to send to someone else. I got a burger. She got fries.
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126620
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If you were looking for her
She's in the backwoods
grafting your skin
from her thighs
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126611
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When I finish recording this tape, I will bury it under the azaleas in my front lawn. I have left instructions for my attorney that, on the first full moon after my death, he should have Oliver Stone dig it up during the dead of night and deliver it to Ji
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1265115
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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—
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126541
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126500
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What would people say about me? He was immoderately adrift. Maybe pathologically narcissistic. A shame he dumped Gina, the best he ever did. In essence, a man-child.
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126544
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It was a battered, creaky, rickety old thing, this wheelbarrow. It had two wooden handles with cracks running through the wood, a fat rubber wheel and a deep tray encrusted with the mud and plaster and grout that it had transported through decades of heavy use. Based on…
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126550
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I remember seeing five young losers standing outside this bar, smoking cigarettes in their baggy shorts and flip-flops, giving the occasional high-fives. They weren’t even eating their calzone, and I was getting upset about it. (I hadn’t eaten the whole
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126543
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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.
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126443
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You want to be Teilhard de Chardin? You’re getting started way too late.
There’s a better chance you’ll be tomorrow’s Peking Man if I bury you in the cellar.
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126400
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1. It was never me operating Jack Ketch. I let someone else do it. Never saw his face. He smelt of burning oil.2. I stole from the kids' parents. While they watched the show, I sent my mates round to pick their pockets.3. I gave the arresting officers nightmares. It was…
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1264116
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Beyond a jade gate, a lotus pillar nods to / a braided fort.
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126454
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No one is going to find us. And even if they did it's just a play someone wrote with you in mind as the lead. No one is going to find us. I could have told you this but I didn't want to spoil your newfound fun. No one is going to find us. The funny…
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126494
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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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126400
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126421
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He fingered her lighter off the table during a party hoping she would come over and talk. She was just on the other side of the coffee table but the stereo was so loud, belly or dee lite or some other early 90's dance…
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126490
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126401
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Headsets screaming with suburban boredom
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1264107
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clouds clot the horizon all day
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126422
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He sure can play piano
With those giant lobster hands
In his ratty raccoon coat
And his old black cowboy hat
His boots of Spanish leather
And face like sultry weather
His raspy croaking voice
Picking out the words so choice
They reall
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