1071 4 2
|
Rent yourself a decent place to live, one with a shower.
|
107150
|
Death is like a warmcup of hot cocoa, steamingup into nothing. The sun rise will bringprison bars of light through thebedroom blinds again. Sorry about thefirst three hours of your deathI thought you were drunk. Across the park thestrange dog looks…
|
107121
|
To do the proper set up for the story, it was taking me some time, but each bit was important to the outcome, and while he likened me to Higgens on the old Magnum P.I. series, I just laughed at his slowly closing eyes and folded arm, caught in a half cur
|
107000
|
"The shipyards of the soul do not exist." The Colussus has always been a colossal waste, and the riddle of Your Father's Identity confounds no one but yourself. What a riddle, what pills! He was known for…
|
107000
|
On the way back from New Jersey this afternoon, my dad kept pressing “seek” on the radio dial so he could find WBLS, which we listened to last night, also on our way back from New Jersey. I was driving last night because I wanted to and because I think my dad…
|
107000
|
They shake, shake, while mouths say the words.
|
107021
|
I'll tell you what, Rick,
ten-thousand bucks?
[But] let Detroit go
bankrupt. I'm running
for office for Pete's sake,
|
107042
|
If I start getting rambunctious, put me in a cab.
|
107011
|
Could I cache your kisses?
|
107000
|
The concourse had become his second home, he knew it that well. His fellow passengers were the houseguests he couldn't get rid of, the workers at the restaurants and gift shops a personal…
|
107020
|
He was that famous actor—now famously forgotten—most renowned for his exits. He could burst through an in or out door with the best of them. Better than the best of them; he was the best of them. With the subtlety of his often noisy art he could…
|
1070127
|
Nostalgia is
when memories
turn into Gods
of knowing who you were.
|
106900
|
Life is stained-glass evinced in some
Holy place, colorful and mysterious,
Crosscut with gashes of lead veins.
|
106933
|
Whoever told us that truth-telling was so wonderful,
when we can plainly see that lying is the way to get results?
|
106966
|
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
|
106911
|
The reality of the now
makes tomorrow
very distant.
|
106920
|
If I had one of those, she said, I’d never get anything done.
So naughty.
Now my bones get goose-bumps too.
We were playing in my rock group Spotty Behavior,
and she was lead singer in The Young Vaginas,
fronting for a band called The Cherry
|
106911
|
I have the idea but cannot find the words
|
106900
|
Her light blue eyes fixed on a point to our left, past one of the church steeples poking out of the flat, charred ground – like a toothpick protecting a birthday cake from its cellophane ceiling; an untouched bethesda keeping the never-blue sky from crash
|
106943
|
I really think we ought to be drinking
The Wild Virgin again
I remember having a beer once
And feeling like a minor god, yes
Just like you did
So, now, listen to me: if she snores all night
That’s one thing
But if she screws the lights out
|
106942
|
And yes, I may be the goddess of personified flesh, the same little goddess of curled locks, of little sleep, on fire, ablaze. With my sudden weakness, stoppage of breath, pulse cut short, leaving the wrist.
And you of stolen, fraudulent face, troub
|
106944
|
Yeah, okay, so
pigeons are the bums
of the bird world
So what are a flock
of crows working over
a wheat field while
the artist Vincent
is desperately trying to live
with his bleeding ear
or to sell at least
one painting during
|
106901
|
I need to be commended,
despite the wine glass
that threw itself
at your sister's head
of rollers. Imagine a pear
in the deli meat aisle
ripening behind glass...
|
106910
|
To become an objection as cool as an ice box. To wither the crops. To hold a baby in your hands. Never mind, the arms. We shoot photographs of you. I still believe in black bile. I still think I'm holy. This rhyme is non-violent. Snap.
|
106800
|
The dark staircase creaked as he crept down to the basement. The even whoosh-whoosh of the washing machine was comforting to him. He reached for the light as he entered the room. A dim bulb blinked on above him. There was a small table across the room f
|
106800
|
"You think life is supposed to be easy? Whoever told you that? My life is anything but easy; still you don't hear me whining all over the place. And, trust me, I could teach you a thing or two about suffering.
|
1068118
|
|
106844
|
|
106820
|
|
106813
|
This spring darkness is winding around my neckin the age of video, how many times I've seen her at the zoowith your eyes, as if seeing for the first timeher early morning breath, tripping your woman, your angelas she arrived on the beach when it was still too dark to see…
|
