996 4 2
|
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
|
99644
|
Wheels are spinning
On the country roads tonight
I’m driving all alone
No one else in sight
And the wind’s in my hair
And I don’t care
Yeah, the wind’s in my hair
And I don’t care
|
99620
|
She was wearing a robe, but her hip movement sent an ancient message.
|
99521
|
if you lost your list on your way here
i will help you get what you came for.
|
99534
|
You're all I've got to keep me company, but it's a very fine company. So familiar, and warm as any cold digital fireplace. I can tell you've got more in your story, but it doesn't make you happy. I really do not feel well today. Fun I wanted to…
|
99533
|
That son of a bitch meant every word. Every filthy mouthful of insults that hit me was intentional and focused.
|
99544
|
Don’t shout. Be nice
Cheer up. Sit up
Straight. Don’t play
With your food. Elbows
Off the table. Watch
Your language. Use
Your napkin. Eat the
Crust
Stop fidgeting
Stop scratching
Close your mouth
When you chew
Remember to
Clea
|
99576
|
The leaves/
that clung through February/
fall, dung brown,
|
9951412
|
We danced the pee dance after too much Seven Up and tasted odd Jello dishes.
|
99554
|
I watched her look at mewithout any eyes.She turned her head as wesat on the edge of the bed.Instead of eyesthere were hollow indentations of soft tissue,bulbs, and closed,tissue sown, pinched togetherwith pulls and zigzagslike crosshatching, where…
|
99400
|
Dust and blood and disgust
|
99401
|
His long black lashes stir, flutter a wink. His eyes catch yours through the dark reflection of your face, illuminated from beneath by wavering candlelight. Reflection obscures his features; they become yours.
|
99400
|
“Our legs are touching. Our legs. Touching. The light from the screen illuminates your eyes. Off and on. Even in night scenes. Maybe it dances in the eyes of other people there too. But I doubt it. Not like…
|
99400
|
exiled from hell where no torture could touch you to a cloud in heaven where no…
|
99451
|
The gecko instinctively knew that if he moved, he was dead.
|
99411
|
She burns
her wrists with menthols; she says
it's too much effort to cut
them. Besides, it's
more fun.
|
9941110
|
It was a cruel question, coming on breath that stank of the grave.
|
99421
|
...somehow that light has found me.
|
99400
|
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…
|
99453
|
Cockroaches may be falling through the holes
in the floorboards of heaven, but we will not be disturbed.
We are agents, free and clear, even if a little bit mean.
I want to quit worrying about money,
but the angels upstairs won’t let me.
The
|
99410
|
Focusing on reflections of clear lines on scummed glass, reflexes not quite as fast as they used to be, seeing things but not clearly, straining, these muscles worn out servos, grunting, can't quite bring things together, but why do this to yourself. More pointless than…
|
99444
|
It was a battered, creaky, rickety old thing, this wheelbarrow. It had two wooden handles with cracks running through the wood, a fat rubber wheel and a deep tray encrusted with the mud and plaster and grout that it had transported through decades of heavy use. Based on…
|
99344
|
It’s always daylight there
My brother comes running down the sidewalk
holding out his arms and calling my name
He’s wearing suspenders. He’s gotten thinner
in heaven
He embraces me warmly
wanting us to be friends
I give up trying to resist
|
99332
|
In the sad suburban subdivision
with its cul-de-sacs and broken curbs
|
99343
|
We could act the anthropologist.
|
99311
|
We are / packed in a speck of dust / adrift across the universe, / revolving an ember.
|
99320
|
There is an obstacle, as if truth has a place of its own. This is the phantom where my roommate turns off her headlights Upstate, while we’re singing: No more, No more, stay as you are.
|
99312
|
I haven’t written a poem in months.
|
99300
|
it is a wonder that we are speakingyou and iafter the fall season felt hopeful.Now the words mean nothingmy fairy has taken a vacationand women sleep with men in nice suits.
|
99354
|
I flipped a large cardboard coin
On one side it said
Abundance
But on the other side it said
Scarcity
I went to the store
And began packing everything I could get
Into my shopping cart
But the things that started spilling over
Onto the
|
