1188 0 0
|
Bald on top and wavy curls projecting from both sides. He looked at me and his eyes rolled round and round in opposite directions. He asked,
"What did you think of the play, clown hater?"
|
118841
|
I stood at a workbench for eight hours a day, scraping various shapes and bits of metal fresh from the machinist’s press, plotting my escape.
|
118821
|
the heartbeat,
the pulse of
the darkened earth
|
118832
|
Questions unanswered proliferate/
across the April sky, blue//
with wisps of cirrus white.
|
118710
|
The abstracted man lacks an inside. He is a body. A shell. An exterior that encompasses nothing.The abstracted man yearns to fill himself with adjectives. He lumbers through streets. No adjectives fit. He finds adjectives where we discard them. He carries them in his…
|
118711
|
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.
|
118743
|
We could act the anthropologist.
|
118732
|
Gone he is in his designated place Just resting in peace while I barely move on
|
118720
|
feathered flightless freak of nature
|
118721
|
Why I roamed these flats, choir-Like floors of a century forgivenAnd wedded in an XXL gownIs beyond us. Give me something extra, please. This Town rides in like a school bus.
|
118741
|
I still see you lying on the tracks
|
118700
|
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…
|
118744
|
Church-lady dresses with matching jackets
|
118700
|
Every boy on the boardwalk stared when she and Rosa walked by, everyone of them had their sweet wet dream about the Dominguez sisters.
|
118642
|
The rising sun was hidden from his eyes by the hips of the woman next to him in the bed.
|
118622
|
(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…
|
118611
|
What else could I be doing right now,Besides lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling,Looking for patterns in the colors and lines on the tiles?Looking for you,Immobilized,Succumbed to the siren song you sing.Lured to slavery,Yet you are free,Wild,Unable to be…
|
118660
|
It’s hard to lose. Harder than you think. I guess the ultimate question is: If I had to give up one thing, my dog, or hazelnut gelato, which would it be? I’ll tell you, between those two, it would have been easy to choose. But losing you, that was a who
|
118611
|
I remember when I pulled in the way the car door sounded When it yawned open. I think it may need some oil. In the dress you just bought, With one golden flip flop dangling from Your big toe -- The other under the bench, you told me. "We'll be having a …
|
118675
|
|
118520
|
and as in real life,
occasionally
sneezed on.
|
118532
|
I saw an older writer in a slouched-down Fedora,
gray beard and long scraggly gray ponytail,
who had empty chairs pulled up all around him,
at the Loser Café,
maybe for his imaginary friends,
or maybe those who were already gone.
|
118511
|
We’ve been married for 24.1667 years now and–well–my wife was starting to remind me of a public building. The Registry of Motor Vehicles, to be precise.
|
118500
|
All Karin did was watch from the street. No movement. No reaction. She just watched.
|
118574
|
i just seem to be stuck is all
|
118520
|
With nipples like those, rose-colored, we could have fed a nation!
|
118520
|
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
|
118433
|
"As soon as you're born, they make you feel small."--John LennonI cannot do anything about how beautiful you are, my sour flower, but I can tell you this much: Joni Mitchell is better than all the cowards in the world. They all chose to somehow…
|
118421
|
The body does what a body must
|
118400
|
|
