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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
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104600
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A jump, a fall, that's how it begins. I don't know much about living but dying I should have down to a science, if practice makes perfect. Death by burning as a withc (often) a warlock (not so much) a heretic (quite a bit, you'd be surprised--though, if you…
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104600
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A tanka poem inspired by the CEO's apology and a 10% discount for the 40 million debit card numbers stolen at Target store since Black Friday.
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104656
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Our world is a prism floating through its own rainbow smeared shadows in a desperate attempt to get caught. Our lives are in the carpets, the planks, the winds. Whatever has heard us, has not believed in us enough to rescue us from our own …
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104622
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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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10462411
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I remembered our wedding reception. I tasted the crab cake, pulled her from greeting people, said, you have to try. And she did.
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104665
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Not sure I remember what's important, but I remember you. That's the whole problem I think. You're a drain where all my words wind up going down. All of them get lost inside of you. Eventually. And I'm left with nothing to say. Because all my words are…
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104632
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Maybe tomorrow someone dreams
And maybe someone moans
But beware the steam inside the dome
It’s just dreams that sorrow owns
If it resonates, say so
Ho in a raccoon coat
Slow bum ahead
If it resonates, say so, say so
And her man, yo
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104682
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104632
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You can ask so many questions
Of what’s it all about
You can empty out the closets
And roll the mothballs out
But no one has the answers
It’s all a mystery
There’s a bigger picture
But it’s really hard to see
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104643
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The brain had elected itself Judas, sleazy loud with silver jangling In this grand guignol of new and quickly old concussion Limbs roasted themselves to occult temperatures Yet remained whitely chilled under air that strove to rub, scrape, signify …
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104520
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104530
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If I came home and she had peed, even after I walked her in the morning before I left, I would tighten up my whole face and shoulders, so I wouldn't hit her, and I would grab her by the tags collar, and I would hiss at her what she needed to know, what sh
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104532
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Gone he is in his designated place Just resting in peace while I barely move on
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104565
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"MAN S FEET HAVE GROWN/SO BIG THAT HE/FORGETS HIS LITTLENESS"--DON MARQUISA Century of Art by Darryl Price"Man's feet have grown so big that he forgets his littleness."--Don Marquis Everything in this chummy little place talks to your face without stopping to…
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104511
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I hold down the control-alt-delete keys simultaneously and the screen goes blank, sending Camus into a paroxysm of fear; for a guy who wrote an essay on facing down suicide, he’s kind of jumpy.
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104586
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104500
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The rings on the engine
Not designed for race gas
Did allow for some seepage
Did allow fuel to pass
The fumes were quite powerful
To the pan they did charge
The spark was quite forceful
The explosion was large
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104521
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Francesco tried to fix Oriana's face in his mind as he blindly walked to the taxi queue.
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104533
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It’s too early in the morning to play the glockenspiel. I’ll just sit here and knit this tiger.
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104511
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104531
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The president is truculent today.
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104521
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Its edges fluttering in the dull breeze, today's town newspaper lay at my old feet, open to the obituary page.
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104433
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My mother was a bluebird
Who flew from tree to tree
My father was a pilot
Who flew right over me
Her soul is still living
There upon my tree
My dad’s evaporated
Right in front of me
My brother’s soul has wandered
Far away I see
I
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104432
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“She said I hurt her and my father, the both of them.”
Rose patted her round belly, carried high and in front, likely a boy. “I can see that.”
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1044101
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feeding the lions, tigers
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104420
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Saturday night in the suburbs west of Boston. As Pancho Sanza and I drift wearily from one upscale restaurant to another, we see an endless parade of husbands whose indifference to their wives borders on cruelty.
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104411
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I have the idea but cannot find the words
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104443
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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
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