1158 4 2
|
My inner shape must be a ruin of organs,/
dead or dying. But do come close enough/
for me to hear. I need to know your story.
|
115841
|
I knocked on all the windows, on all the doors. No one answered. The television was glowing. I went around behind your house and saw it through the curtains, blowing in. (I knew you were hurting.) Knocked and tried the sliding glass door, the flimsy scr
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115887
|
First the room is blank white and then she is placed there and one by one everything is penciled in. Her, in a loose and flowery dress that conceals her feet; a black and white cat, who wraps her tail around her legs and looks up, head moving trying to interpret;…
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115800
|
Thirty is nothing, she said, Wait till you really start to fall apart. I wanted to tell her I already have, but you can't ever say anything like that, especially not on your birthday, especially not to the woman who's just bought you spaghetti and wants
|
115800
|
I think I have experienced this before: This fractal sigh upon the star-scarped floor, That makes this concrete mock of valley heath- Below the traffic lanterns at the door, Of frigid other flowers lovers ‘queath None but their eyes to.…
|
115811
|
Jackhammered men hollow out the building, cart away decade-old works of other men. Exterior walls stand. Rooms have been demolished. In another day see what came before progress. See trees. A squall is coming. Ask about the…
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115800
|
But it was one of those odd moments in America when you get to see the opposite sex with most of their clothes off, other than at a swimming pool in the summertime.
One thing led to another and she wheedled out of me the fact that I drove a very fast ’
|
115800
|
You will say how easy it was to love him, How he is kind, gentle, Quick to rub your shoulders in the evening And never one to forget an anniversary. They will ask you of his interests, moods, pass-times And you will silently think of…
|
115832
|
I was sent here to perform the autopsy
on the norm, the status quo, the bourgeois.
|
115800
|
|
115820
|
she covered me with down and kissed me good night, tucking in loose ends, whispering prayers... she cut me out of paper and blew me into life. she held the scissors near my neck in case i put up a fight. she covered me in clothes cut out of colored paper: polka dotted…
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115822
|
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
|
115822
|
White sneakers cry, dripping from the power lines.
|
115781
|
It’s funny how white people are so reluctant to reveal their ignorance of hip-hop culture. “There are a number of robust on-line tools that can assign randomly-generated rap nicknames to members of the federal judiciary,” I told him.
|
1157107
|
May the timing belt stand the stress again
|
115743
|
The items were not selected. The people were not forced to choose, with tears and a suffocating feeling.
|
115700
|
"I packed up the rest of his things today. Irony is the fact I'm still picking up after him, despite the fact he's been gone for two weeks."
|
115740
|
Henry Katz sat on his couch. He was reading a book. He guessed it was a novel, but he had to keep looking at the cover to remind himself what it was.
|
115745
|
But El Roy
Never listen no so
|
115752
|
Reincarnation. Not a bad deal, especially for cows. For the rest of us, it is like being in a witness protection program. And all without the risk of having those against whom you bore witness coming after you. Usually.
|
115744
|
you're landscape
under her flight path, brother
one dash in a dotted line
|
115700
|
My name is Op. That is what they call me, because everything anyone says, right away I think the opposite and head that way. So I am Op.
I spent the War in Georgia, a section of southern Russia near the Black Sea, which is how I survived that whole mes
|
115710
|
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.
|
115711
|
Breaking the cat's cradled cord she examines her fingernails. She notices a crack in the paintwork, sighs to herself. Makes a mental note to cover it over.
Cover it over, paint over the cracks. There's been a lot of that recently, hasn't there?
|
115611
|
I have the idea but cannot find the words
|
115611
|
the arc of her invective presumably aimed at the little boy and girl ambling halfway down the block behind her
|
115611
|
|
1156179
|
When I came back home, after coming down with polio, everything had changed for me. I'd been gone for forty-five long days and nights. But it was Halloween, a time very nearly sacred for children in the Midwest, and it brought out the charity of the who
|
115632
|
Here’s the local group of grumpy gray-haired men
Chewing over politics as if it’s important
As if their endless discussing of it,
Waving their hands in the air, gesturing,
Is going to change the world
How do these guys stop from having heart a
|
115600
|
She reached out her arms and spoke to the moon, "I ran from my fears, from loving too soon." She gazed at the heavens and cried to the stars, "I could not promise him all of my heart." She wiped away her tears and laughed at the trees, "Not a soul on this earth would…
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