1077 2 1
|
I had a dream and in it a small deer came to the side of the road and licked the salt from my wounds. I was lying beside you in a ditch, after crawling out of a smashed car (maybe your pal Jackson Pollock was driving.) We were just kids, really, not muc
|
107764
|
Her tits were perfect
But came with a white picket fence
Around them
|
107774
|
no matter where we sit or how we stare— / all parades now march away to one day.
|
107763
|
In 1997, I was exploring a used bookstore in Camden, New Jersey, when I stumbled across a two-volume hardback copy of The Dictionary of the Khazars by Milorad Pavić, a book I had been meaning to read since it came out in 1984. At $10.00 for the set, I couldn't pass up…
|
107732
|
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
|
107700
|
If you don't want to die, go fetch me a pie
|
107722
|
He arched an eyebrow. He was "thinking" — a tricky thing to do, when you never read, even the newspaper.
|
107731
|
“Madras shorts with those candy-ass Brooks Brothers shirts? If you wear stripes with plaids, you’ll look like a TV test pattern.”
|
107733
|
Forgive the earth that’s
got a hold on you.
Forgive the trees.
Forgive yourself,
you were
damaged goods.
Therefore,
quit looking for the
expected.
Look instead
at the unknown
as a fact.
Describe it.
Use great detail.
And
|
107797
|
As ghosts, they became lovers. Rodion would strum the Underwood keys like a balalaika. Lizaveta would sing.
|
107700
|
How long to make something pretty?
|
107673
|
No harp now hails, / no wood sings mirth, no good hawk / swoops through the hall, no swift steed / paws dirt in the castle-yard. Woeful death / has emptied earth of an ancient race.
|
107611
|
Charlie is hollering about Rex again. Every dinosaur right now is Rex. Also Rex: every animal with thick-looking skin--elephants, crocodiles. (Yesterday, he pointed to an ant and told me, "Buggy Rex.")
|
107640
|
Has anyone reached inside your eyes lately? Has anyone searched for your soul as it floated near the ceiling of the past? Has anyone told you they needed you to touch them, to lie down beside them and breathe, just breathe, and live wherever it is that ma
|
107600
|
Uproot everything, a muddy hole when done
|
107500
|
Nothing is what was wrong when I asked.
|
107522
|
“Oh, where are you going to, O tow-haired rover?” Though my sight turns nowhere homeward, and my mouth's run numb, I can hear a leaflet sifting through the walls of clover; Though I stay, I ‘m going forth and o'er to Camelot, come- On a four…
|
107586
|
When I asked her about her husband, she laughed.
|
107521
|
I'll never forget the way you tasted that last morning that I ever saw you.The blurry eyed look on my face as I searched your bed for my tshirt, and you in a hurry because you were already late for work bending down onto the bed and grabbing my chin the…
|
107542
|
Above the chasm of life burn two fires
at either side of the framed painting that
stands on the pink and red plain. And inside
the painting itself an orange rain falls,
accumulating in a sea of red. Rocks can’t stand
their small shadows anymore
|
107500
|
I drove around the city that evening, beyond lonely. What was I to do? My friends were gone! I hit the nearest bar and ordered myself a strong drink of concentrated Oros. The barman was a tad gobsmacked, but he saw the dismay in my eyes. After filling him
|
107510
|
Watch the moon hang with methough miles and miles apart.Over sea and rock and railwaysforever in my heart.
|
107510
|
If you were a painter,
and I a poet,
we could have conversations
about Picasso and Bukowski,
and how neither one
took a sober breath.
|
1075155
|
The trio stuffed their grilling equipment in a battered van and left for Dixieland Speedway at 4:30 am.
|
107500
|
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…
|
107511
|
a sixteen year old girl
Denim
|
107543
|
What if it was all cut and calculated.
|
107400
|
|
107400
|
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
|
1074146
|
|
