1131 1 0
|
I have full bars on my iPhone, but no one has called, texted, emailed, IM'd, tweeted, Facebook'd, Tumblr messaged, or commented on my blog and I wonder if I am really connected, if my iPhone hasn't suddenly started to malfunction and I am really just all alone here,…
|
113176
|
If she weaves words that are true enough
|
113100
|
Petroleum products leaked from her shattered hull, still stinking of a battle its leaders not only lost, but forfeited.
|
113121
|
Naked chest, Naked nipples...
|
113165
|
Forget the salt erasure of Carthage,/
all the Meso-American artifacts/
smelted to float the Armada
|
113100
|
On the back porch of the world, the sun kisses my laughter, Giving me the silent strength to separate before from the after. Misunderstood soil shyly strikes up a conversation. And I engage my soul, lost in aimless contemplation. …
|
113033
|
In Nebraska, I looked up from the flatness, to her face, then down to the page and saw this: Real people have joy.
|
113000
|
You were there at the beginning almost, when I wanted to write about the dead spider I smashed on my bedroom wall, comparing it to the blue/grey smoke of the blown-off fireworks drifting overhead.
|
1130116
|
The woman broke the law with that scream. I would say that there was pleasure in it, for her. I would also estimate that ten or fifteen men saw it, ten or fifteen men plus me.
|
113010
|
If luscious lips lusted for love lost, they wouldn't be mine.
|
113030
|
this is one of those
"there are two kinds of people"
sort of things.
|
113012
|
and I saw this man mopping a floor. He did not look like a monk, and he was smiling at something I could not see. You would not find me and I was beautiful. You would not find me and you closed that memory. I thought that was unfair and maybe it…
|
113021
|
If the pen travels over a sheet of paper, it is not long before a metaphor appears. A fast, beautiful metaphor like friendship, or deformity. Think of the pen as a penis and the ink as semen. I just sit and laugh. Time impregnates an opportunity and a lon
|
113020
|
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.
|
113021
|
In the bad dreams of bums living under the freeway overpass
dwells the laughing gas of their previous lives
the humorous opium operas of unsatisfactory whore-wars
and the open sores of ether-filled balloons
in the bad dreams of bums under
|
113000
|
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. …
|
113085
|
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 …
|
113061
|
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…
|
113000
|
You carved my initials into your inner thigh with a jagged stem -
|
1129107
|
You gave me all of the power, and none of the power.
|
112910
|
my tiny white world, the cube in the closet in the back above the shelving in a secret compartment cut into the wall
|
112944
|
or do we tickle each other's private stocks of fancy instead? I know which one I would choose, but so do you, and that's how the question's always changing places with the wrongheaded answer's velcro-lined vest, bullet to blasting…
|
112933
|
the space between two antelopes
is a canyon,
|
112843
|
I love that moment in Hamlet when the Ghost first appears. It seems so real, thanks in large measure to Horatio's sober outlook & initial skepticism. It's really happening. Their eyes are popping out of their heads. And it makes me wonder, how would I react if I…
|
112840
|
People speak of wordsmiths, as if they hammer text into shape; smelting down clunky prose, recasting from white-hot ink.
|
112800
|
He lay on a wooden pallet, which he had placed inside a cardboard box that might have once held a refrigerator. Except the box was labeled “Robotic Endoscopic Surgery System.” His head was propped on a gym bag that contained all his possessions. Outside, it…
|
11281714
|
My real parents lived about 200 miles in the other direction from where we came. But long ago I determined they were too real.
|
112831
|
To give proper credit where due, one name suffices for what humanity likely will be dealing with for decades, centuries, or millennia to come, and that name is “Technogenic Climate Change”.
|
112841
|
in making your sad blown apart hearts rise up and squeeze out the kindness juices ever so sweetly anymore. Tried that. Didn't work out too well, not for me, wasn't a BIG time of waste, but did eat up some important wee…
|
112800
|
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…
|
