956 0 0
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I would like to land youLike a paper airplane,Take you home to mom. I like your mom &, sheWants to sleep in the sameBed as me. Call it odd. I give you a head nodin the museum, we speakin code. Call it news.I have the blues. Nobodydoes it like you do, to me,for us, in…
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95644
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"Beauty is an experience, nothing else. It is not a fixed pattern or an arrangement of features. It is something felt, a glow".. --D. H. Lawrence It's not about the lasso. That's so easily dangerous,…
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95501
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Her dad regaled me with stories of his up-from-the-bootstraps climb out of poverty on the hard-scrabble, rough-and-tumble Lower East Side of New York, where he founded the leading supplier of hyphens to writers of purple prose.
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95585
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I felt that love could
not be paid for or else could
never be paid for enough.
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95500
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I never thought that I would be
here
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95500
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(...) 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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95511
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Times they were a blazing, the Pheasant met God in Piccadilly meadows
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95562
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His beard is an eighteenth-century forest / in south central France
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955105
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95542
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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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95410
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She's a woman who travels often. Maybe for work. Maybe for mischief. She's a "free spirit" trapped by her desire for love. But she numbs it with the warmth of a new man's touch. She leaves herself reminders that often fail her or remain inconsistent. She wants to…
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95430
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There was no logic to the thing;
he’d left to drive his girl around.
She had lived and he had died.
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95421
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CALEBHe'd get up every day,don his clothes and tendto rote ablutions. He tried not to think too much.Because he knew what that would bring --the tethers he lost; failed causes,the last lover, who knew some things.Instead, he kept his eyes straight ahead,marked time,…
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95442
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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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95360
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As unlikely as it may seem, John Coltrane was in fact a member of the U.S. Navy Band in 1947 in Honolulu.
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9531211
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95322
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We’re safe as houses/
and unmoved. We grow/
accustomed to the sound
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95355
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Here's to the new, trying ever so hard but not too hardto have an audience with their own personal God ontheir own super duper terms, wonder kids. Aren't theybeautiful, one of a kind cells, Ladies and Gentlemen? Thepaint job alone is worth the…
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95312
|
Do you know if you were actually speaking to me there?
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95344
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living in the cross current lawn-care worlds don't give a whit about the so called deeper things. They don't have to scrape and you can't make them go to the river to see a sunset. They've got all their bonafide luxuries in a smart little…
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95300
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Inside a restroom stall, Herbert Casey Jr. took a soggy roll of cash from his boot and placed a quarter of the wet bills into his wallet. He divided the rest into the three empty pockets of his blue jeans.
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953114
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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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95300
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Love is music
timed in heartbeat
move to rhythms ages old
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95310
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She came out to Laguna Beach one time, and we saw each other at this party and she asked if I wanted to “ball,” as she put it. Yes, I said immediately, because I was famished and really wanted a lot of sex because I had just finished a three month project
|
95334
|
...the room was filled
with a brightness
and a breeze,
making you think
you were up in
the clouds.
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95332
|
For the kid in me who fell
head over heels
all the way down
the stars,
I wonder where you are
now.
Slack is harder to
cut than
you might think,
I have learned.
And assigning the middle finger its true purpose
keeps me pretty bus
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95331
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“Madras shorts with those candy-ass Brooks Brothers shirts? If you wear stripes with plaids, you’ll look like a TV test pattern.”
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95221
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Balls excite our interest because we live on a ball. We travel through space on a ball.
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95296
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95200
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I was reading The Transmission of Doubt by Adi Da, and since it was just shy of five hundred pages, I had become tired and needed air. It was funny because Eglington Square Mall had only one floor and was more like a mini mall than anything, with a beer store on…
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