1129 5 3
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His wife leans her head against a beam with her eyes closed
while he reads out loud.
Her mouth shut tightly, almost twisted shut. She's so weary.
She raises her collar and sinks further into her neck.
When he shouts, or explodes — nothing. Not
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1129 4 4
|
“It’s okay”
Her psychic from Santa Fe
Said on the speaker phone:
"live
and
love
and
create
otherwise
chaos"
|
1129 0 0
|
When the phone rings that late at night, it’s not good.
|
1129 0 0
|
They are light, their souls, yours among them. And women who seduce you should understand that, and use their bodies carefully, so that you are unharmed by the night that is filled with them. The beautiful youth who would turn their flower as if you wer
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1129 1 0
|
Here lately Daddy's been talking bout' filling momma full of holes. Not like he would do it cause' he likes talkin' just to hear the words come out even if they don't mean anything to anyone but him. But just to be on the safe side I went and hid them shells cause' he's got…
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1129 2 1
|
A. wants to be an entrepreneur but cannot get with the program.
|
1129 3 2
|
We reach for things and objects//
made of ever smaller things and objects
|
1129 1 2
|
pulling my bones apart, fingers are supernatural beings
|
1129 1 0
|
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.
|
1128 3 1
|
Thirty-seven stitches to sew your ear on, five more to close the skin above your eyebrow...
|
1128 13 9
|
"covered in a sheen of sweat, flowers of salt bloom on my T-shirt"
|
1128 2 1
|
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…
|
1128 0 0
|
Every boy on the boardwalk stared when she and Rosa walked by, everyone of them had their sweet wet dream about the Dominguez sisters.
|
1128 4 4
|
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,…
|
1128 2 1
|
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
|
1128 1 1
|
|
1128 7 4
|
tiny banners, browned/
and wrinkled by time,
|
1128 2 2
|
White sneakers cry, dripping from the power lines.
|
1127 1 1
|
|
1127 1 1
|
They first hook you in with how cute they are. And they are cute, do not get me wrong. I'm not, nor have I ever been, fundamentally against babies—until now. As the first reviewer of this oh-so-wonderful app, my intention is not to…
|
1127 4 4
|
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1127 3 2
|
Gone he is in his designated place Just resting in peace while I barely move on
|
1127 0 0
|
We’re on the phone dead battery & I want this to last forever. The last thing I want to do is make decisions.
|
1127 2 0
|
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…
|
1127 5 5
|
most famously, a small/
writhing dog. A thousand casts were made/
before they stopped
|
1127 2 0
|
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?” …
|
1127 1 1
|
Who here of us has not yet caught Advanced to leaden fife, The answer to our waiting What, That answered, “Such is life?” I saw a jelly man go past, Who wobbled in his strife And cried, “No stiffness that won't last …
|
1127 2 1
|
“Well, of course I served in the CIA . . . everybody did, back then!” he says with a grin. “Two goddamn bloody well years . . . I was a regular Nayland Smith, I tell you. …
|
1126 5 4
|
Those resting in clusters of bones, Cradled in ashes of what once were homes.
|
1126 0 0
|
Dancers, dunces and brides-to-be
|