1201 2 1
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When someone asks me what I do, I tell them that I am a fixer. I fix things. There is nothing that cannot be fixed. Will it ever be as good as new? That is subjective, but I will fix it for you.
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120121
|
I remember the first time you made love to me. It appears I was one of the lucky ones … it wasn’t in a car, it wasn’t in your Dad’s boat, underwater, or any other weird place you've written about. It was actually in your bedroom … in a bed!
And how
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120123
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A nice girl is like powder, quick to anger, fresh, impudent, too quick to know what expletives fate speaks. It was a cold year for trash talk and sheer silk. And yes, the fox was smoking, who could attract or irritate a nice girl with the same look, a wom
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120120
|
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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120111
|
I like to keep my mind uncluttered for truly fresh information, like the fact that T.S. Eliot taught Virginia Woolf the Chicken Strut. That's news you can use.
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120033
|
I check the NPR news app. The story about the shooting in Pittsburg has already been pushed off the homepage. There is an article about yellow fever in the 14th century, a potential ceasefire in Yemen, players protesting the national anthem, a plane crash
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120044
|
only after
you slipped away entirely
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120062
|
The Keds-stubbed grass, toy trucks without wheels, and Band-aids threaded in the sand… Most parenting is vigilance. Seconds ahead of its own sound, a passenger jet spears the heights not far above the treetops, …
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120044
|
What I’ve got is
priceless,
but no one
wants it.
Hmmm.
I wonder if
I can
give it away,
or have to
haul it to the
dump?
What I have is priceless.
Priceless.
What I have
is priceless,
but no one wants it.
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120000
|
When the phone rings that late at night, it’s not good.
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120020
|
The old man tied his black tie and put on a black beret. His bones hurt, but at ninety-two it was to be expected.
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120020
|
Sounds like something a woman would do.
—You think so? said Ben. What woman would do that to me? I don’t know any women in Nice.
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120020
|
We were so easy, so willing to be drained, that to start making those puffed-up stories about us now, our courage, etc. would be purely misleading. Put a bottle, or glass of wine in our hand, and our panties flew off, and gladly we would have followed y
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120021
|
This is not an indie movie about love and happiness and Al Green songs redone by actresses pretending to be songwriters.
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119900
|
The Party and the Body The party at my mother's ended Saturday night deep into Sunday's morning. I tried to remember the exact circumstances of the end but although they wouldn't come it didn't worry me. I knew I would remember at a certain point. It…
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1199139
|
"covered in a sheen of sweat, flowers of salt bloom on my T-shirt"
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119944
|
It's 50/50 that you'll ever pad your knee enough to ever kneel on it.
Your back hurts, the Orthapedist labels it arthritis.
I think that means we're getting old,
so I crawl up the tower of your body
as I'm a little younger, more sprightly.
You're a
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11991110
|
Because of her I got there early, and like I figured, the train was late.
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119900
|
I love her now, but I used hate her because she’d leave hairs on my bar of soap.
|
1199107
|
May the timing belt stand the stress again
|
119942
|
And now for a word from
Hitler’s Younger Brother, the Mohel
Well, half brother really
He was always such an embarrassment to the Hitler family
Always climbing the infinite tree of hope
Against the permanent limb of gravity
No gratitude or all
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119900
|
Oh, I cant stop singingThis human heart beatingWhat people say do not interest meAs much what goes on in their heartsThe heart is were they are really atNo matter what they saySome call it the IdSome call it the subconscious Some call in the willSome call it the…
|
119912
|
I haven’t written a poem in months.
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119910
|
Your insincere smile,
eyes drowning in kohl.
Sweat and sweet talcum,
and the maroon cashmere stole.
|
119932
|
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
|
119910
|
Ok, ok, so I concede
some answers are enough to make you cry or laugh yourself to death.
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119831
|
contemplatedshredding lettersfrom mybelated betterscauterizingsevered tethershorizoningmy ruffled feathers
|
119800
|
"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.
|
119800
|
"The shipyards of the soul do not exist." The Colussus has always been a colossal waste, and the riddle of Your Father's Identity confounds no one but yourself. What a riddle, what pills! He was known for…
|
119800
|
The city was spread before me in a pattern of dancing lights, alternately hidden and revealed by the blowing snow. At this distance, it was almost beautiful. Of course, the beauty was an illusion, obvious only at a distance. If I stood here until dawn, I’
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