1008 6 3
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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
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100832
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I dream empty, the wind blowing benzene blue. Shards of glass. Barbed wire. Bricks crushing flame into notions gone quick, never painless. Is it my blood? In my eyes. On my hands. Is it for you? I'm not sure where I'm walking here. Walking towards what from. Is it…
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100722
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We’re safe as houses/
and unmoved. We grow/
accustomed to the sound
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100743
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Jimi, Jim, and Janis
Kurt and Amy too
They died and gone to heaven
And fit inside a shoe
Room 114’s where they lie
Their eyes wide open
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100700
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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
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100711
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Patio Joe, 55 and constantly smelling of swill, got his name because he sold and stocked patio furniture at the neighborhood Kmart. With his pockets full of dusty rags and crushed Old Golds, he'd daydream about check out girls.But I suppose you'd have to call them check out…
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100733
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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…
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100740
|
Julie had a thousand freckles the
color of mud.
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100700
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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.
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100711
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the rain on the windowhammers out a symphonyfor ninety Underwoodsand oh what a savage performanceit does take to soothe this beast
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100722
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Happy is a look we are trying to wear better
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100620
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An officer appeared and told us that we were already dead. We were already ghosts. As soon as you realize this, there is nothing to fear.
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100675
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In the beginning there was salt
God licked the salt and said it was
Good. Then there was Light
Then Chocolate
The rest is just History
It’s no great Mystery
Oh, and Fireflies
Fireflies with Due Dates
Flew out of the Slice of Life
S
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1006114
|
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.
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100610
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Some things are said.
Others, never.
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100600
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100644
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I was sitting in Prague
having breakfast on 9/11
near the Astronomical Clock
while the world was bombing ISIS
the sons of ex-Nazis
sitting at a table nearby
and old apparatchiks
leisurely eating sausages
while the world took a moment
to
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100600
|
It was just after lunch when they found the box.
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100621
|
Did you ever have a morning when you just did not want to wake up? Sleep can be marvelous, but dreams not so much. If you believe, here is a tale. "She was awakened by the mushing of her pillow around where her head lay squarely on it. It was not violent,
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100675
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The two boys walked the long dock to the edge of bay,like scrappy lobsters pointing toward the waves,"The cockroaches of the sea,"his father said,It was the old country"Only prisoners were fed lobster.They stayed in the dampholes."He thought the sea ebbed and flowed like a…
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100610
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I remember so many things … do you remember who I am yet? I attached pictures to jog your memory, including the house on Euclid where I lived.
That’s my high school graduation photo. I was wearing my hair short that year, and blonde and natural,
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100585
|
I felt that love could
not be paid for or else could
never be paid for enough.
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1005105
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I am a small cottage up on the hill. Every morning, I open my windows and my front door. First enters dawn which turns the walls blue, followed by the sun laying straws of wheat on my table. Inside my cottage the day lights up the dark corners while the lamps go quietly…
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1005119
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untilled, weedy, left to rest
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100542
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When they first brought me home, I was their pride and joy. Then, one day, they put me in this wooden box.
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100500
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This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.
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100500
|
I was still18 years old when the plane landed in South Korea. It was 10AM, Friday. Stepping off the jet way, it could have been any airport in America. But it wasn't. As soon as we got in the airport we were hustled to Customs. Filled out a bunch of forms. Asked…
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10041710
|
I hate turnstiles and revolving doors
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100400
|
Morning. A hot bright sun shines down on the cool dark depths of the deep blue sea.
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100400
|
My guy was Croatian. I sought an Italian.
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