791 3 0
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The little butterfly struggled against the wind. As little butterflies sometimes do. Tossed and turned around by relentless, uncaring gusts. The little butterfly would make progress, but then be pushed back. Tantalizing close to where she was heading. A…
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79144
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Hanging out at the
Imaginary Friends Café
with all my imaginary friends,
poets, itinerant musicians, etc.
Writing close to nothing.
Can’t finish a thought,
so I’m composing a book called
“Not Quite Haiku,”
which is unfini
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79110
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He leans back in the desk chair in his home office. He clicks on “Inbox” in his Gmail. He spins around in his chair. He clicks on “Inbox” again. As he spins again, he realizes how silly it is to keep clicking “Inbox” when Gmail…
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79100
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When the phone rings that late at night, it’s not good.
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79112
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shitting out the Mona Lisa.
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79120
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Through by the sands and the rocks we were going and the lake liquid had tumbled the stones by the thousands so that while the water was still we could see agates and yellow jaspers and other or even the odd and misspent piece of rounded glass green or white safe…
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79144
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The world is beginning to lose what little hair it has left. Follicles litter the streets and scrape along merrily in the wind like one last turn of the world defying knob of being and knowing. But the thing I want to say here is how beautiful…
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79189
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When he saw me, he jumped faster and faster, wild like something rabid.
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79142
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Below them, the clag shears open in irregular patches, the lights of Seattle resolving themselves through the thinning overcast then vanishing again by turns.
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79021
|
“First I had two men in my life,” she says. “Now I have no men in my life.” And I watch her adjusting a strap to keep her shoulder bare. It’s the aspiration of flesh to beauty that is keeping us alive. Cool and warm pastels above her bare arm, warm red
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79020
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We used to find ourselves watching a World War II documentary, but from the periphery of our vision; because our tongues would be swishing against each other, and we’d be breathing each other’s wind; and we wouldn’t be as in to it as we used to but we wou
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79041
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Her heart is the color of fuck. Not the color she'd imagined; the soft pink of parting lips, the fading hand print on steamed—up windows, like Leo and Kate in that fancy car the night it sank. His car was a dented jeep…
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79000
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I picked story starts out of a trashcan and compiled this thing.
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7901412
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We danced the pee dance after too much Seven Up and tasted odd Jello dishes.
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79043
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strange daysi'm having lunch with the babyand we're talking about people-watchingand old souls and coffee and twizzlersit's a weird conversation but she's my babyso something about some apple not falling far from the treewould best fit in herebut anywayi feel like i'm…
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79041
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5. To hate one's race is always overrated;We built fair cities where there were no huts.The Frankfurt School should all have been castrated,And strung up by a noose made of their guts.Marcuse, you have caused the death of Europe,With Gramsci, Adorno, Freud and all…
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79075
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“Look them straight in the eye, keep your mouth shut unless spoken to, and make no sudden moves.”
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79000
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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. …
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789106
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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...
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78951
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The gecko instinctively knew that if he moved, he was dead.
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78900
|
This is the keeper's pattern. Each time he continues his search, he reaches out through his gaze for an invisible line, wishing to touch it if only with his eyes. Each time he feels himself drawing near quiet panic sets in, eyes downcast until the threat
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78900
|
(...) I know my eyes are shut and I’m on the kitchen floor but I see her and I’m not confused. (...)
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78941
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And there was Kathi R in the summer of 1969. She was from Wheaton. We had tons of unprotected sex that summer. She was short, almost no breasts, but man, she could reach down behind me somehow and grab my balls at precisely the right moment, and bam, ba
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7891110
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It was a cruel question, coming on breath that stank of the grave.
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78900
|
Love is music
timed in heartbeat
move to rhythms ages old
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78965
|
What I had liked about Harvard before it showed itself in psychocareerist TV appearances and lid-down disingenuous printed psychotopical drills for maintaining crass privilege was the description online of its linguistics department.
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78920
|
Bring me your poor, your tired, your hungry
anyone skilled at evading highway tolls
Bring me your escape artists dangling upside down
in a straight-jacket from the sides of tall buildings
Don’t let them starve in the prisons of the world
Bri
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78900
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He was unsure if it was Marxist fervor or some sort of erotic drive, an awry libidinal economy, after years of stasis and depression now experiencing stimulation; but he had this rule that when faced with an attractive man and a choice between yes and no,
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78800
|
Long ago, when I was a child, like you, my grandfather told me about the wind.
He pointed to a willow whose branches were dancing in the breeze and asked me what I heard.
“Just the wind,” I answered.
He smiled and ran his hand acr
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78800
|
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…
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