1071 5 4
|
from a moving train. The lost ball inthe tall grass still wants for no one. AndI'm suposed to pretend? You got yoursmile from something, not someone. But it took all your long hair in the process. You've been looking for the one true grace, the ultimate…
|
107011
|
A man stared out a window,
only to see a passing train.
|
107090
|
...it didn’t take much to just toss it aside and muster up some fresh bravado.
|
107000
|
The paper
in his typewriter
|
107000
|
I am always impressed with your intelligence.
I love watches. I'm not interested in time.
I am well read so talking to myself can be fun.
|
107098
|
What will become/
of the resource-sucking poor
|
107000
|
“Isril, I won't lose dis child tuh hunger,” Mina said as she rocked her young son to sleep. Noah sat on her lap, head on her chest, and exhaled a plaintive moan that grew softer and softer with…
|
107000
|
you are in Faulkner’s dream -a lost pilgrim in cheap shoes
|
107044
|
Well, I walked in on you, then you walked out on me
And that was when it happened – the end of history
And that should have been sufficient
But I think you know it wasn’t
I remember it was you who told me
Dreams are only efficient when illusio
|
107000
|
Light seen as sunlight through a Japanese shade
Red through many of their mouths, and often their hair
but also spots of a duller red on the back of this
gentleman's coat and the back of his head
The woman stares at him without smiling
from thre
|
106941
|
She sat me down naked
on a kitchen chair and fucked me
in the dining room, hovering over me,
then sitting down on top of me
I was upstanding
It was outstanding, raw, and exciting
No children or adults around, or dogs,
cats or birds, no goldf
|
106944
|
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
|
106911
|
It all had to begin somewhere; some moment of time and space which arose in perfection- and dissolved into the now. It was a beginning he couldn't quite remember, couldn't grasp onto- it simply sifted through his fingers, sand floating away with the wind. That's not to say…
|
106910
|
but at least I wasn't drinking as much anymore.
|
106941
|
They had to dress normal, my other boyfriends, be beardless, hairless, everything torn away, plucked, shorn smooth, because it elicited moisture on the tongue (when I was with you.) But I grew bored as the day before I first saw you.
|
106900
|
Ben did not respond, but sat staring lizard-eyed at the shattered remains of his glorious musical instrument.
|
106953
|
Most of life, it
turns out,
is pathetic.
Very little is funny.
We have to generate our
own laughter.
Canned laughter
may have to do.
Even if we have to carry
the can around our neck
like a Saint Bernard
or strapped to our
hip
|
106911
|
A horn blared behind him. Dan put his Corrola into drive, and began inching forward. Something colorful passed on his left and abruptly pulled in front of him. He slammed the brakes, nearly ramming into a bubblegum pink three-wheeled motorcycle command
|
106863
|
I can be iambic when I want to / be!
|
106820
|
Apparently we must endure them forever, the gods. My willingness to live among them, and love, with their high-pitched voices. To endure or be endured equally, each one of the Fates, each one of the high hearers stammering out the certainty of their lov
|
106800
|
“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…
|
106844
|
I was at the bend in the road
thinking of Robert Frost
but there was no fork,
there was no yellow wood,
there wasn’t even a horse
to ask me why or what if
There was no decision to be made
just a thousand tourists from Prague
|
106800
|
Silent defenders
of penumbra one
|
1068114
|
There is no need to worry about art. Art in its ideal forms stays safe. Real art resists being the object of attention. It directs your gaze, and it swings in you forever.
|
106833
|
Like the miserable sledgehammer I am, with no adjective in place to praise your moon, you are a hole well-worn into my favorite rock. I have only been able to reinvent this wronged language, in which being moved by…
|
106831
|
We bring words together and set them up on blind dates. Watch them build a history together, get married and fight together. Make offspring syllables cradled warm in cribs of punctuation. Phonemes squeezed into existence by two parenthesis. Words…
|
106810
|
The north street was always a mean part of Port Neches. Too far up for oil company patrols ...
|
106875
|
No CNN to sing obliteration,/
only Pliny the Younger/
to scratch what fell
|
106891
|
The smell of Coppertone Suntan Lotion always brings back memories of the beach. I remember you rubbing it on my stomach and you kept moving lower and lower. I had on a bikini bottom (very daring) and you rubbed your finger all along the rim of it just a
|
106842
|
His small hands grew unimaginable vitality as he pushed and heaved against the strength of the ocean and it's depths and it's ruthlessness.
|
