949 3 2
|
No matter how many times
flies land on butter
they will never become
butterflies
|
94910
|
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…
|
94800
|
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. …
|
94855
|
The racket of me left
this morning
|
94800
|
Miles from anywhere that mattered, he stood by the side of the road staring at the two-lane highway that outlined the edge of suburbia like a cement fence. Steam rose from the hood of his car as he sat on the ground and waited for the other shoe to drop.
|
94831
|
She also, wearing the requisite Hawaiian lei in this naked wedding photograph, but her low-swung breasts were hanging all the way down to her navel. Her navel itself appeared to be about as round and deep as a shot glass. There was this smear of gaudy flu
|
948102
|
Boy, it is weird out there, talking to real people!
|
94821
|
Okay, you want the truth? I was never that good with strange. It takes me awhile to warm up. And I’ve got to be attracted, somehow. Like with your eyes.
|
94865
|
Prospero's in his cell and I'm in mine.
He drowns his books, I'm drowning in mine.
He exercises his power–I'm powerless to exercise.
|
94821
|
From the opening bars that conjure up the sounds of European auto horns, "Parisian Thoroughfare" is as light as French pastry, as free and airy as a skirt blown by the wind.
|
94810
|
At work I listen to musicrecorded from live performances.People cheer in the music and I can hear their smilesthey are excited. I smile with themand I imagine they are happyfor me.I see them beyond my grey office walls I imagine they are my friends and…
|
94821
|
And then, one fateful day, the world ran out of ideas. The last one was gone, floating away like a balloon full of the helium we had already squandered.
|
94742
|
From 'Excelsior' (fifth section) - a poem in 9 parts. So this is what begins at thirty? Thirty-five, And waiting. Those make love with water mildly, they That sink and skim the tide's meridian fingers: Brown swans that bob the blue orb's plumbing sheer. So this has…
|
94700
|
I try to make conversation by showing her the washing instructions for the jeans I just bought for $375.00. She reads slowly. “What, do they assume you live in Australia or something?”
|
94743
|
The bum had abandoned
More than half of his rich
Chocolate cake
In the bottom of the shopping cart
The wording on the top of the cake read
"Happy Birthday Doug"
But it also read
"From Doug"
Either he was too full
To eat his own words
|
94700
|
The tongue touches the lip, looking inward, remembering. The head nodding yes. Staring directly at the memory like an animal, while the crowds pass by, and occasional phrases materialize out of the air. We live and love and create. Yes we do. Otherwise,
|
94722
|
Walking with one giant dog and one tiny one, I didn’t feel at home, but I felt something better.
|
94733
|
My lover passes the healing comb
through the hair of my soul
during the night
as she retouches my youth
|
94611
|
Outside the lattice of snow suspended in the air comes with traces of the glitter that was in her hair.
|
94600
|
Flowers I didn’t like God or else nature must have had some brief happiness over. But it’s just forgetfulness for an old goddess like me, goddess of the moon, of hunting, of chastity once, since now I have changed. My opened flowery bosom went on to bec
|
94600
|
Whoa! Whoa! This just in! You mean we were minutes away from some kind of immanent Greek tragedy!!?
Let me get this straight. I cheated one time on Jolene with Jolene’s baby-sitter (you!), whom she used to cheat on her husband (with me)? I guess I’m luc
|
94610
|
"Stop it! Don't fucking touch me! I fucking hate you! I'll call the cops! I'll never forgive you for this!"
|
94610
|
Split streams displace a spliced and shattered walkman with no connection of its dead batteries, projected into Styrofoam and plastic mirrors before hitting the brook water. Michael finds way, out of breath, eclipsed by an elm, his eyes visible with pupil
|
94520
|
I don’t like telling stories. I’m far too honest and give far too many things away.
|
94510
|
|
94485
|
David: Glad you made it. It’s been ages since we've had a cuppa.
|
94420
|
1. There is a crowd of people walking to a field and since there are over forty of them, the conversations become divided and then subdivided in accordance w/natural rhythms. I follow behind. It is a football game. Makeshift. Twenty aside roughly. Almost every…
|
94422
|
Here is a blank space soft and white like paper extended indefinitely.
|
94443
|
On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing.
“I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!”
My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93, right after she turned 92. And 92 when she was
|
94400
|
I went to NY to look for homeless ghosts and delirious minds...
|
