1132 0 1
|
The end of love is a rusty barbed-wire fence.
|
113200
|
This is between the two wars, so
it surprises you
when TV screens light up with this in the hotel breakfast room.
You are in Delhi, you were supposed to fly home
last night but
fog canceled everything.
|
113211
|
. . . making a little winter-love, in a dark corner.
|
113289
|
When he saw me, he jumped faster and faster, wild like something rabid.
|
113122
|
(v 1: I picked up a robin yesterday. It was red and puffed and in the middle of the road in front of the car on the way to the grocery store. I put on the brakes and turned on the flashing red light to signal my stop. I picked the bird up and moved it to the side of the…
|
113120
|
and as in real life,
occasionally
sneezed on.
|
113110
|
Every day, I come home from work and hear you two screaming next door, breaking dishes and furniture and sometimes each other while your toddler wails. And if I can't drown it out with the TV and a beer, I stuff in the earbuds and crank up the iPod, too. That way, I…
|
113122
|
|
113100
|
Buy random DNA on the open market and drive a poisoned stake into the heart of darkness.
|
113141
|
As kids, we grew up in a city that we swore was suburbia. Nearly every street had a few houses with a kid or two that was missing their front teeth. There were kids we knew well and kids we'd wish we'd known but they lived a few…
|
113165
|
Then it gets worse—this reading of books—I go to the café and can only read a minimalist there, one crouton at a time.
|
113100
|
She lets the book drop through her fingers to the floor and stares straight ahead watching the red lights streak by in the darkness. The train rocks her away from the seat and back; she rolls her spine along the plastic to absorb the motion, taking it away from…
|
113110
|
First was the end of the month Sunday morning picnic. Well, Not first - there was more. Something Before then. But, You looked different with wind in your Hair and Never the same again. The mud on your skirt matched my thoughts. You'd fallen, I'm sure, and I…
|
113130
|
|
113110
|
Adrienne found her calling in Africa
feeding poor children
or whatever the fuck you do
when you're in the Peace Corps.
|
113120
|
I know our hearts were fastened together in silks in the Chicago night. In the great nurturing night, you were the (real) first. Yoked together, you were the first god to have complete leave of my body, for an hour, for all time, you were the first.
|
113132
|
http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/articles/2011/07/17/imagine_mimes_as_the_mbta_noise_police/
|
113033
|
In Nebraska, I looked up from the flatness, to her face, then down to the page and saw this: Real people have joy.
|
113032
|
Gone he is in his designated place Just resting in peace while I barely move on
|
113000
|
I wonder if the Pleiadians are out there. Jack, what are you talking about? said Jane. The Pleiadians. I said I wondered if they were out there. You did go to special school, didn't you? No, said Jack, I didn't. I don't know why you always tell people that. …
|
113053
|
alone and soaring in your eyesanother new journey for mebegins; my lifewants to make sense ofitself only for you, goingdeeper, hand youthe keys to that kingdom'srare maps and say,here,"fly, dream, fall to love'slake." You deserve it all.I swear…
|
113000
|
With porc’lain hand she writes thy thankless verse/ Like Proserpina, strapped to eb’ny throne,/ Eternally paying the six-month purse/ For hunger once soothed with but seeds alone.
|
113000
|
This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.
|
113000
|
When Prince Rainier III asked an expert whether there was a literature of Monaco, her research produced only a suggestive ode to a fig and a poem about a fart.
|
112921
|
She was a rich widow who lived down the street.
|
112922
|
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…
|
112913
|
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…
|
1129148
|
Sometimes we hurt ourselves, we scratch ourselves, we bleed — for a simple joy... All I wanted to do was to find the poplar again — the tree of my young arms, of my budding breasts. My fingers used to circle around its bold and vigorous waist, but in the…
|
112900
|
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.
|
112940
|
I had imagined what it must be like /
out there in the middle place
|
