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- I wish I were taller. - You also wish I never die.- What´s your point?- Santa Claus must really hate you.------ What´s the most ridiculous thing someone´s ever asked you?- Please never die. - But you promised!------ I just want to go to sleep, I´m…
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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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The crescent moon lies with anyone (in case you wanted to know.) And the rain – as cheaply! I don’t think anyone knows this, when they are young. When you are young, very young, you want to be included in everything.
“The young that the sea took, ki
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You are about to experience a voice from the past. Here we go ... jet back to about 1964.
I remember you with the same beard (just a different color!) and slightly longer hair.
I remember drinking lots of beer and wine in your basement with Shel
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(I would cite here “corpse plumbers”, but I fear being misconstrued.)
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Maria Monsanto, the curator of Francesco Martinelli's Atmospheres show, stood in the middle of the third-floor gallery.
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There was a bucket of shit . . .
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As it was, she was on a mission to get back and either close the chapter or re- open it on her former lover. Something was curiously drawing her to him. She was frank with the man on the plane. He understood. When they deplaned on the tarmack in a snowsto
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I display feelings of great witness and clasp the rails and try not to fall. I try to fit the social rhythms of the garden party. I do not succeed. I pack my bags and go.
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My dog Alfie and I would get in my van and go out at midnight for a doughnut. Or an éclair. A French cruller, to be exact. Sometimes we would get Blondie's Pizza on Telegraph Avenue near the Berkeley campus, if it got to be too lonely and restless at nigh
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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…
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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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I passed the Crouching Tiger Qui Gong dojojo with Suntory Dagdibolbishon.
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You gotta see this new drugdelivered thru a procedurally exacting pill Sugar coated yetcompletely foul tastingDrought drowning and will make you blowfish-cheekedIt creates coincidences with bafflement and symmetry Meaningfully uncertain…
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There is Truth in imperfection,Symmetry in distortion.Like a sounding well,You can determine the depth of me--PlumbTruthfrom myCore.Test your breath against meSay lies all--I will not believe them.Here am I,Proof Against your intransigence.But do not despair:There…
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I remember when we first met, telling my friends, He’s so pretty I’d dump my boyfriend for him.
I remember driving all around Elmhurst looking for parking. We sat in the car eating figs and popcorn. We tried to throw the fig pits or stumps, or wh
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that lightheaded feeling you have right now is a good thing
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After our visit to Phoenix and following our inspection of the Grand Canyon, our seminary octet continued its twelve-thousand mile sojourn across the country as a quintet.
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Gone he is in his designated place Just resting in peace while I barely move on
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Francesco entered the gallery, and he immediately went to work.
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Energy is constant though it may manifest/
as dust motes atop the housing of your monitor/
and in the fibers of the filter of your fan coil unit
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With a notch in his ear from an honor-mad fight
And a tail that is shorter than at last sunlight.
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When a woman dies too young, Say at 42, Her bones broken, Her body bruised Beyond recognition Much less repair; When she dies Thrashing In the street Amid rainbow-hued pools Of water and gasoline And blood, Anointed on a bed Of broken glass In a…
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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. …
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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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The little Lady and I drove down to New Orleans to take in the Mardi Gras festivities we’d read so much about.
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and lie down naked in my bed on her back, with her hands frozen at her sides like a deflowered virgin in the Gauguin painting “The Loss of Virginity,” almost breastless, and wait for me to lick her sopping until she almost came, but she could never quite
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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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An extended account of his criminal exploits for a criminal syndicate of Midwestern newspapers and radio stations hastened a change of career plans.
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and as in real life,
occasionally
sneezed on.
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