970 0 0
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I feel like I can never possibly amount to all of the impossible feats I want to. Therefore, I must try and discover all that I can in the time that I have. Time is allotted from our beginnings. Theories about where we begin are disastrously…
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96955
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what-ta-hell, fuck this
he snorts brushing
the dust from his shoulders
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96932
|
It seems the law of gravity will exert its influence even in such mundane matters as the afternoon rush hour.
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96933
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my heartis a brokenstandpipefanningcity water cayenneacross sidewalksgutters ripple redover fast food bagsand cigarette buttsover the feetof priests and pit bullsover the handsof drunksand babiesand into the mouthsof ratsand raconteurs you never oughtadrink…
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96920
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I remember driving to New York City the summer of 1964, just before I met you. That was the very first time I ever smoked a joint. In those days it was happy dope. We got high and everything seemed so funny! Those were the days!
I drove into the city
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96921
|
I’m leaning into my freedom and will have you take your portable prison with you and you can set those four walls across town.
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96910
|
He leans back in the desk chair in his home office. He clicks on “Inbox” in his Gmail. He spins around in his chair. He clicks on “Inbox” again. As he spins again, he realizes how silly it is to keep clicking “Inbox” when Gmail…
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96945
|
Ninety-nine to one
would seem good odds
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96931
|
On-air personalities inflate a balloon Trump head to the point of bursting.
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96954
|
Please be advised to have at least 2 persons to assemble this unit
Although it could take close to a dozen
Always include at least 2 kibitzers
Another 2 or 3 standing around sipping vodka martinis
Be sure to have enough olives to go around
And b
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96922
|
First they
Dust off the bottom of the sky
But then the clock gets stuck
At 3 seconds till uncertainty
Then they
Dye the sunset clouds
To make them more
Transparent
So as not to confuse
The human mind
With the stuff of uncommon
Nostalgia
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96800
|
It was Christmas Eve. Time for the ghost to visit. Just one ghost in this story. The ghost of a Christmas past. Just one Christmas for just one ghost.He looked out the window. Under the distant streetlight the snow was falling. He turned on his porch light. …
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96842
|
The Pope is too busy shopping for clothes to control your brain.
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96822
|
“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…
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96810
|
I am seven and it is in one of those spring stretches where temperatures proceed enough to make walking acceptable if not amicable. Pop cans and chip bags once boasting glossy surfaces and daring hues now faded to match asphalt fields. Other bits of things…
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96800
|
This is the keeper's pattern. Each time he continues his search, he reaches out through his gaze for an invisible line, wishing to touch it if only with his eyes. Each time he feels himself drawing near quiet panic sets in, eyes downcast until the threat
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96800
|
Steve Bancroft’s future wife showed up at his door that same night, slamming her hand loudly against the door and shouting for him. “Steve, Steve, wake up. Damn it, come on. You forgot to pick me up at the airport. Who are you in there with? I said wake
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968148
|
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…
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96800
|
I wanted to enter, but was blocked. Before me was a wood door with two peepholes, and through the slits I saw a brick wall, a leather torso beyond resting upon twigs, velvet, glass and “glue” spread, legs wide. Against a…
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96800
|
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…
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96833
|
I am not
a Road Scholar,
ladies & gentlemen,
though I’ve been
On the Road
more than once.
Do not mistake me
for a bum.
I am not a hobo,
homeless or otherwise,
in this life
or any other,
I am not a bum,
I insist.
But I d
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96810
|
On the train, with a bag full of books, All by the same person. That's what writing is. With each shudder bump my Head lags behind, and my eyes follow While the wandering shaky straight line Moves…
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96800
|
Rise, Awake and Sing“Your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise; awake and sing, you who lie in the dust”(Isaiah 26:19)A medieval town where nothing stands straight,where Kafka sat, slept, ate. Where timereads backwards on a Hebrew clock and a Golemwaits in…
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96733
|
Do you know how much it takes to holdthe spring you love against your lips? No angel, or I, will ever begrudge, nor the planets that have to slow their pace and stumble their orbits a degree behind to make the magic that keeps our grip. We could have been elephants…
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96733
|
Bite an apple and watch them come,
God only knows wherefrom.
|
96742
|
It was Saturday morning."The coffee maker is not ready yet," said one of the old men. Like the present company, his form was swollen with mismatched layers of cold weather wear.It was a white room with a dozen men, three couches, and a large screen television flickering…
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96741
|
As the torrent hit her, she felt her body slipping, sinking, and suddenly she didn’t know where the floor was in relation to her feet.
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96710
|
Jerry peered out into the dark landscape with no fear left.
|
967108
|
"I’d rather move a word around a page
than raise a glass or pass a plate
or work a room immune to poetry."
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967124
|
Sixteen hundred hens / suffocated / during the collection
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