1126 3 2
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We reach for things and objects//
made of ever smaller things and objects
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112665
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Your begging hands are hacking me up again like garden claws that know not the difference between a delicate solar powered flower and a tightening choke of killing weeds.It's not like it's even mine to keep-- like a legal document I'd…
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112611
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112612
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pulling my bones apart, fingers are supernatural beings
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1125139
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"covered in a sheen of sweat, flowers of salt bloom on my T-shirt"
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112544
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112522
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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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112511
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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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112500
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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…
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112521
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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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112520
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It's eight fifteen in the morning, my favorite time to call, and a guy named Ernie DeCampo answers the door in his work pants and a t-shirt. “Good morning, Mr.De Campo,” I say. “Do you have any fireworks in your home?” …
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112522
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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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112510
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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.
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112522
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White sneakers cry, dripping from the power lines.
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112421
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That night in the stable the three wise men were the only ones who had read books. All the rest became victims of circumstance. Characters amazing in their own right. To be written and talked about for centuries. Totally…
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112410
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A boy sits in a room filled with old, broken toys. A mother is in the next room reading Cosmopolitan, dreaming of a life that should have been hers. There is the zoo and an unnecessary stroller on a very humid day, beads of sweat dripping slowly down a face. A trip to the…
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112421
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A. wants to be an entrepreneur but cannot get with the program.
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112420
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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…
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112444
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She smoothed her hair with a hand that should have been the turning pages of a cheap dime-store novel. I watched her from under my eyebrows but kept my head fixed downward, pretending to pay attention to the 6 ½ narrow stiletto heeled black alligator pumps. Not easy to do,…
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112420
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I was going to write a love poemabout a man named Alex and agirl named Dee Dee, but I couldn'tremember them as well as I wanted. I knew about the time she painted theirnames on the overpassbut I have forgottenthings about them. I don't know what became of…
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112411
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. . . making a little winter-love, in a dark corner.
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112474
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tiny banners, browned/
and wrinkled by time,
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112300
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"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.
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112320
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and as in real life,
occasionally
sneezed on.
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112321
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I'll tell you what, Rick,
ten-thousand bucks?
[But] let Detroit go
bankrupt. I'm running
for office for Pete's sake,
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112300
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Instead we dunked the men in vats of grease and boiling water. Instead we tore apart the books from which they emerged. Instead we found the graves of their mothers and detonated bombs.
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112311
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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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112300
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day1
I've been fucked. I've been fucked. I'm supposed to behave now and say all these things I don’t really want to say. I've been fixed in spot. I have been turned into a broken record, or no even worse, a broken record case. I've become a parody, a p
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112330
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112342
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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
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