1096 8 5
|
I felt that love could
not be paid for or else could
never be paid for enough.
|
109690
|
...it didn’t take much to just toss it aside and muster up some fresh bravado.
|
109698
|
She'd had every reason to believe he'd be difficult, though he wasn't.
|
109600
|
It could be there is a little me, somewhere, truth be known. One time in Laguna Beach I slept with a girl I met at this café, the Jolly Roger, I think, when we went back to my apartment and had unprotected sex. She said she was on the pill, but you neve
|
1096118
|
|
109630
|
Out the window, the butterflyhad escaped,beyond my perception and maybe into someone else's.The little boy with the kite stared back,wound his string,and ended his afternoon.
|
109620
|
Gee but it’s great after being out late,
Walking my lobster back home.
There’s little risk that she’ll turn into bisque,
Walking my lobster back home.
|
109642
|
(From Postcards fom a Railway Station (final poem)) No lights shine out tonight high hung in heaven: And the constellations like a dead man fall. No sight of polar eyes, whose sons are seven, And I stand unthinking and beyond it all I own it all a…
|
109510
|
Shit, I guess I'm gonna hafta
|
109501
|
I fuck myself. I say never three times. There is a movie in this movie in this. I say hello. Fish are named after capitals of invisible cities. I say so. There is a movie in this movie in. I say flush for a dumpster. The sound of a sound never made. I say equations for…
|
109500
|
"Come into my face." said Duras famously as she neared death. This is very beautiful. If one takes Duras to speak of something akin to the 'face' as given us by Levinas, and we may display this face here as something like an Husserlian universal…
|
109520
|
|
109500
|
I know you want to hold me. I won't break. I love you. Your hands - when they caress me are soft and gentle. My words speak only to you. They speak of love and of how we spend…
|
109510
|
They use people
then throw them away
They are after the image
There is a desperation in (it)
They behave as if they must have it
It must be a drug
to them
Are they that able?
. . .
They bring it over here and then all they want
is im
|
109432
|
|
109433
|
“Hey! You can’t be
whistling on Greyhound,”
the bus driver said,
looking up
in the rearview mirror.
|
109400
|
Remote notary publics, or "remotaries" for short, are finding themselves increasingly busy as hikers and climbers seek help by cell phone or personal digital assistants from mountain peaks and white-water rafting trips.
|
109443
|
On the way to
The Museum of Inner Light
Expect delays
Expect bumps in the road
Expect potholes and such
Expect a murder of crows
Rolling acorns over the rooftops
But what I want to know is who
Who eats a butterfly
On the way to
|
10941310
|
By the end of my Saturday night shift at the Oyster Bar I look like some kind of filthy nurse
|
109485
|
Yes sir, I confess there have been timeswhen I did not care how young the earth isor take pride in how she sprang back to greenregardless of how hard the snow fought.There have been times, yes, when I lacked the willto notice such things and knew that belowthe water's…
|
109463
|
Spring break that year, (1963) I spent nearly every minute with Lynda. Her taste for sex was unquenchable once we’d gotten started. We did it in every position possible. The sitting position in the front seat of the car, which my brother Herb had to expla
|
1094136
|
A murder of bunnies
nibble the St. Augustine,
|
109411
|
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
|
109330
|
I wanted only to be still, to become a rustle for a moment of papery fall leaves sighing past one another on their way to the funeral pyre in the front lawn, sweetly fragrant with the scent of death and inevitable decline, fearless in their annihilation, incandescent…
|
109344
|
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
|
1093148
|
A.The poem of rational progression is dulling.Make the leap. Go beyond juxtaposition to collision.We like poetry that does double duty, triple duty, quadruple duty. We like poetry that mixes the grit, poetry that has the texture of complexity.Reason asserts an…
|
109341
|
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.
|
109311
|
Once,
To a crash slumber on my bed, so late,
I learned my pillow could communicate.
As I lay my head of lead at the head of the bed,
My talking pillow said,
"Let me be the foundations for the constructions of your dreams...
|
109330
|
I prowl. You prowl. We all prowl.
|
109300
|
TimeDoesnt existWe're told it existThe sun rises and fallAnd people exist for the eight Hour dayBut time does not existHuman beings put TIME in their lives To give it order Most people always seem to be looking for order!!Amidst the chaosIt goes very fast for someVery slow…
|
