1102 8 6
|
Yet tenderness resided here
among the canvases,
the tubes of paint, brushes, and candle wax;
the splatters of discarded ideas.
We made love the way people said prayers
|
110222
|
...though in reality it is a dirty white with brown splotches now appears to him as a fluorescent green garden snake.
|
110211
|
no matter how many drunks I spoke to, no matter how many strangers I tried my new theories on, no matter how many of my, currently distant friends I out-witted and educated with my revelatory nuggets of wisdom, I still see no sign of impact on the evening
|
110201
|
But all I see, the only irresolute shape in my mind that forms and becomes real, is you.
|
110100
|
A cruel reminder of his irrelevance to the world of law, a world he had probably ruled for over 40 years.
|
110150
|
They were all celebrating something, but she couldn’t see what it was.
|
110152
|
We head home, skirting along the coast,
humble before catapulting waves;
the lighthouse near invisible
if not for a single band of red.
|
110100
|
Alice sat on the edge, her legs dangling in the void...
|
110111
|
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
|
110131
|
The past follows, battered, bruised, always behind
|
110144
|
Church-lady dresses with matching jackets
|
110140
|
…if something happened to you so horrible that you no longer felt like living, would it have been better if you had died at birth? Okay, that's probably too early. No reason to act in haste. Maybe you should die when you're eighteen years old, just before…
|
1101177
|
are you afraid sometimes, in the night, in the wind as it beats down your maelstrom thoughts?
|
110131
|
Well, Bainz' dad didn't kill us for stealing his bomb because one of the drug addicts at my house was a cop. At least he said he was a cop, or knew a cop, or had something to do with the cops. I don't know for sure. I know he didn't look like a cop, at least he …
|
110101
|
Thanks for the invitation, although you don't make the Undergraduate Verse Society Ice Cream Social and Poetry Slam sound very appealing.
|
110100
|
no one told him there was a place where heroes died, but he should have known it was in love
|
110161
|
When I was a small child, my father was just barely a man, and he was independently wealthy. So it didn't matter that he was an adolescent inside. There was never any mention of "working." No notion of career. Just the girl he knocked up and the amusing…
|
1100116
|
macho bucks in velvet defy you driving down the lane
|
110086
|
the little white lights i see
mean many different things to me
|
110010
|
In the poetry section, no one talks except to say, "excuse me," or, "wow," or, "amazing," with the second 'a' stretched out like a blacktop highway. But mostly they say, "excuse me." and that's only because someone dressed in a corduroy jacket is …
|
110000
|
We entertained each other and stuck our fingers in each others’ cakes and pies and pulled them out licking them while looking at each other. I was light with youth in a white summer dress, swinging my shoe as it dangled off the tip of my toes, rubbing m
|
110010
|
|
109954
|
(Sung to the melody of "Ghostbusters")When your prose is weakMetaphors clichésWho you gonna callGhostwriters!Characters they speakNot much to sayWho you gonna callGhostwriters!I ain't ‘fraid of no rejectionI ain't ‘fraid of no rejectionLyin' in your bedImagination soarsWho…
|
109942
|
It is absurd to think that a cockroach will wake up one day as a human. And it is certainly surreal to imagine that a fat pigeon in Paris, New York or Rome, say, or even Prague, will one day take up a pen and begin writing poetry, or wave the wand of phil
|
109910
|
In suburban Jeddah magnificent houses on every corner of the avenues are surrounded by high walls rising up from just inside the roadside curb to much beyond taller than a man.
|
109941
|
I guess it was a foregone conclusion that you would be gone at the end of the year. A foregone conclusion that you wouldn’t be coming back, and that after you began writing letters to Sharon saying what you would do to her when you did come back in th
|
109900
|
My usual angel fell from the ceiling and onto the couch.
|
109954
|
Fat, religious, full of himself,
|
109911
|
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.
|
109900
|
And then she'd wipe her eyes, sweep her hair between the crest of her left ear and the side of her face and press that ear to the knot.
|
