1195 0 0
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Some mornings he would wake up with his hand in the curve of her side. But her scent would awaken him further to his reality. This was not his wife. No, the women he vowed to protect was asleep in the arms of another.Lost to adultery, his dreams fell to…
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1195 8 7
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We do not want to be here. Need ensnares/
and pulls us. We put on its tightened face/
which mirrors what each guest will wear
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When they first met at the bar, right away
he was sweet on her.
He drove an old oil-burning Buick or Olds,
going down the road like a smudge pot.
He never kept food in his car,
where it would get hot and spoiled.
He only picked nice fresh
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Dog winged the monkey's gerdonderplonk just past ceremony. Winkle-wizzened water garglers awoke wanderjanked while apple-gated confederates slept on. Rusty pipe smack-down cancelled water lily gumbo's two o'clock and Patsy sang Crazy for the millionth time.…
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1195 1 0
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i’ve started writing these things down
on blue-lined notebook paper
or really anything i can get
my tendonitis-ridden hands on.
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The train station offers a pleasant atmosphere, though it exists as an in between place. People only come here to go somewhere else.
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Then there was Marsha, the blonde bombshell, at Irvine, who slept over one night only. As in the original one night stand, your standard L.A. blonde beach-girl bombshell ex-cheerleader tear your heart out and spit it as far as she could. Wrench your bal
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“Pull out, pull out, you dimwit!” Cheryl B told Andy. “I told you to pull out before you came, if you ever expect to climb up on top of me again! God, Andy, what’s wrong with you?”
Cheryl had flaming red hair and was what we now call “Plu
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1194 5 2
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The bells are ringing once again. They are three sets of bells, but I can tell them apart. It's cold up here, and I never thought I would end up in such a high fortress surrounded by the grey and dark and the moat and the flora and fauna foreign and slightly brutish.…
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1194 2 0
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Saturday night in the suburbs west of Boston. As Pancho Sanza and I drift wearily from one upscale restaurant to another, we see an endless parade of husbands whose indifference to their wives borders on cruelty.
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with binoculars
neighbor reads
screen text:
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We danced the pee dance after too much Seven Up and tasted odd Jello dishes.
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tragically / once upon a time / two people / far away / ...
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1193 1 1
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City cars packed with eyes
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(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…
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She shifts in her armchair, shadowed beneath the dark pitched roof, gently replaces her chipped white china teacup in its saucer. It's started again. It's how they go, their whisperings, egging younger children to climb the steps to her attic apartment, a
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I ate a tuna salad sandwich for lunch.
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A tanka poem inspired by the CEO's apology and a 10% discount for the 40 million debit card numbers stolen at Target store since Black Friday.
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1193 1 1
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I thought I would beThe standing champagne glassunmarked and gleamingThe sleeping silverParalleling matesInert as ChinaBut I was the catasleep on the rug
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1193 4 1
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“So–you can get a stimulus check even if you’re dead?” I asked.
“hell man–in chicago you can vote if you’re dead. i’ve tried to stay active politically.”
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Who You Pretended To Be I only appeared to belong to my mother --Jane Kenyon I almost died when Ulysses sailed leaving behind the dowager queen complaining of processed sugar as Grandfather's limousine tooled to Saks to browse brassieres…
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1193 9 6
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“Yes, Mother, of course I’m still single. No, I haven’t joined the Army. No, I’m not moving back home.”
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The apple tree is pretty and hangs On it's limbsFull pictures Like the executioner songover the head of a bladeAt the end of a rainbow waiting for a cold cloud To blow away a daffodil And leave porcelain tea cups at the end of a dull dayLike doilies waiting to be ripped…
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It was the absence of small sounds he felt most. The clink of a spoon against china, a floorboard’s distant creak, the swish of that old, broken-toothed comb through her hair. A thousand tiny sounds that had proved he wasn’t alone.
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the visual field is an in-rushing city of refractions bouncing across the water.
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I don't care what my reincarnated self thinks about today. I'm already aware that everything stinks in the end. Well. It's supposed to. But all things must seek travel while they can. Dance while they can. Dream while they can. Laugh while they can.…
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What do you Americans say, here is ze kicker?
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1193 0 1
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Thanks for the invitation, although you don't make the Undergraduate Verse Society Ice Cream Social and Poetry Slam sound very appealing.
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1193 1 1
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I looked through the window of my shop here in Laredo and saw him standing there with his six-shooters drawn as I sized him up from his head to his toes. A ten-gallon, weathered black hat sat atop his head and a worn pock-marked and sun-bleached, denim shirt criss-crossed…
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