1147 2 2
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Heading for the fields one morning to paint haystacks, Vincent noticed his neighbor’s house ablaze.
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From the parking lot to the stadiumdown town waiting for the crossinglightthere are a few others in jerseys but not manywe are too early for that.Desert gravel crunching scuffle of canvas shoeskicking granitehop along wobble steps and I turn to seewho's off the…
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1147 4 1
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Bum on a Parisian stoop begging
with his big Jackson Pollack
bare head in the rain
The water running in streaks
all over his brain
Reminding him of a painting
He once thought of
Keep going, you’re coming back
again. Get out of the car wrec
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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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1146 0 0
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“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…
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It comes to him in the night. When he's lying there, staring at the ceiling. The shadows dance on the white paint, forming into monsters that get you when you sleep. The moon hangs low in the sky, dancing with the stars in a ballet that lost all movement
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1146 1 1
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The tuna fish sandwiches were laid out the way they had always been; they were cut into triangles, with wet paper towels between them. They stayed that way over an hour, untouched, aside from a dimple the size of my cousins finger to test the softness. …
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1146 3 3
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“Can I get apple juice and milk?” “Yes.” “And a chocolate shake?” “Will you finish all that and your food?” “Probably not.” “Still yes. Get whatever you want.” The waitress took the order. Along…
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1146 2 1
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1. So this is how the Western world ends, with a shrug:Great lanes extinguished of the lamps that yearned Once for tomorrows turnstiled as agog We watch you, Paris, long rejected, burned- If without flame from exiled …
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Ben did not respond, but sat staring lizard-eyed at the shattered remains of his glorious musical instrument.
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and I revel in the fact. There are other facts at work and play, but I'm hanging out with this one because it is my day off and I'm listening to music and writing poems. I like the bright appearance coming from the bedroom…
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1145 4 4
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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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1145 1 0
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I leave you because
you violently told me to,
I still love you because
I told you I always would.
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The sirens didn’t eat the sailors
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1145 9 4
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Alas, the wind, the rain/
and plate tectonics take temples,/
fire and sediment papyrus and clay,
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1145 4 1
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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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1145 2 2
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The fine blond hairs lift slightly along the skin of your arms
As you nod, listening to him. The veins
On your arms standing up as well
I was caught in an off moment because of your skin
Because of the way moisture beads up on it
The youthful fi
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1144 2 1
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Let’s just say I’m pissed. Indignant. Angry about living in a universe that appears to be utterly amoral.
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1144 4 2
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Here in this land of cannabis...
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I am an animal on display in an old fashioned zoo - trapped & violent, violent, violent
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1144 0 0
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At the house one night we were all sitting around at one of those infernal communal meetings that go on into the night full of pot smoke and red wine, when the door was nudged open and a stray dog wandered into the living room. It was a strange coyote-l
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1144 3 3
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“the calendar of my future was in there!”/
yes: all tomorrows belong to the dead cats,/
their decisions relinquish one day per day.
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1144 1 1
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As you can see, egotism forms at a young age for people who end up in this industry.
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1144 0 0
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Bloggers venomously characterized Mitt as a "bumper sticker Patriot", the kind of coward who wraps himself up in a flag, puts a bumper sticker on his car, sings the national anthem at the top of his lungs and is the first person to yell out "Freedome Isnt
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1144 3 0
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I prowl. You prowl. We all prowl.
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1144 1 1
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Outside the lattice of snow suspended in the air comes with traces of the glitter that was in her hair.
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What will become/
of the resource-sucking poor
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1143 3 1
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I didn’t know how to find the gold-capped ocean. How was I supposed to know where it was? I only knew you did not want or expect me to follow you there, where the orifice to everything withers, including my heart. Openings from the rivers drying in the
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