1125 4 1
|
“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.”
|
112520
|
I am like a spice in wind, warm and gentle on the face, a reminder of your youth, tried and true. Lick the trapped silk from my soul, is all I am saying, with your high language. Get the core out of me and turn it under your tongue. Why shouldn't the egg
|
112522
|
...though in reality it is a dirty white with brown splotches now appears to him as a fluorescent green garden snake.
|
112520
|
They were overweight, diabetic, and trapped in a cellphone dead zone.
|
112500
|
Aleister Crowley walks in and all of a sudden the bar's filled with angels and demons and pagan things. Wood nymphs and stuff like that. Wittgenstein, to his credit, keeps cool. He just stands over there next to the dart machine, pointing at things and naming them. Like…
|
112511
|
|
112421
|
if you lost your list on your way here
i will help you get what you came for.
|
112400
|
I walked up to the bar and sat down on the empty stool.“You don't want to sit there,” said the bartender.“Oh? Why not?” I replied.“It's haunted.”I laughed, but then stopped when I saw he was not laughing with me.“You're…
|
112442
|
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
|
112411
|
She burns
her wrists with menthols; she says
it's too much effort to cut
them. Besides, it's
more fun.
|
112477
|
The monkey did not live for long. He’d lost interest in the stuffed dog pretty much right away. The farther away the shuttle, the more garbled and fanciful the sign language the monkey had been taught became.
|
112421
|
What the fuck is that smell? Puke? Pine-Sol? Oh shit!Back seat of a cop car.Again?What is it this time?“Excuse me, officer? Where the fuck are my clothes?”
|
112485
|
looking like you never once purposefully disappeared from our view. Like a river running clean through a fog's lying heart. Like standing thunder, suddenly gone solid enough, within a crazed hungry countryside, like a smile's radius, to be seen and heard …
|
112495
|
M. CALLAGHAN: I’ve got a lot on my mind. You’re drunk, aren’t you?
COL. MORD: Good idea!
DEATH: Well, there is no shame in that.
J. KIDDING: Everyone suffers. Can you lend me your cat?
T. BURKULAR: I don’t know, sir. I don’t follow political issues .
|
112300
|
In the switched-off
time
of day's blackest
rest-
|
1123146
|
|
112312
|
Do you know if you were actually speaking to me there?
|
112320
|
He cut a hole in the sack
|
112385
|
She slipspaper thinshe ripspaper thin
|
112375
|
There could be a Reagan circle/
with a Maggie Thatcher suite.
|
112300
|
Flies as big as raisins sucked spit off his lip as he slept. Not sleep in the strictest sense of the word because guys like him don't sleep, they merely avoid life between rampages. And this guy, well, he's gonna wish he'd avoided life a bit longer because when he…
|
112300
|
My backyard was first Grass tickling my bare feet Skipping along the bottoms of my toes. I broke my arm there; I always hurt myself Swinging. The fair was next, grownup kids Having adult fun Eating carnival food and drinking grownup things When no one was looking. …
|
112322
|
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.…
|
112389
|
I spend my time sitting on the back step—poison oak reddening my arm—under the eaves, waiting to escape.
|
112322
|
My chin is half-eaten. My chest is gone. There is a rhythm to how each flame licks me. Like how you used to in the mornings before work. Before the coffee. Before the toaster. Before a rose clenched between your teeth and dancing.
|
112221
|
I dreamt my legs were stirring the air up behind your back, as you lay between my thighs. Stirring the air repetitively, like a sea anemone stirring the water to feed the soul, the hunger between the legs and arms, for new life.
Stirring up the salt
|
112276
|
Turningturning the pale grey spot.She sits in her carin the parking lotwith the radio onleaning back picking a thin piece of skin from her finger.Turningturningthe seagulls move aroundand aroundabove the asphaltas though it was the wave,with…
|
112210
|
If luscious lips lusted for love lost, they wouldn't be mine.
|
112210
|
d anon., I've Had Trouble "Loosening Up." I've got to keep my pump primed, don't I?
|
112221
|
There was a bottleneck ahead. We slowed down single-file, me behind, to wait our turn to pass the doorway of a vacant storefront church. In it, a lone black man sat atop an empty plastic milk crate. Nobody looked at him; they were all slowing down and cro
|
