1077 6 5
|
I can walk among words, Scatter them like birds, to compose two thirds of a poem, when they settle on nearby wires, in an order inspiring wonder. What do they think, when I scatter them asunder. Bring them disarray, Shape them to a…
|
107722
|
He arched an eyebrow. He was "thinking" — a tricky thing to do, when you never read, even the newspaper.
|
107730
|
...something is pulsing in the shovel against the window and its pompadour of snow.
|
107732
|
In the mirror an owl staring you in the face once again,/a fraught fragment of life’s puzzle. But you pretend it’s. . . .
|
107741
|
as if someone had spilled a bag of perfect diamonds on the world.
|
107640
|
She is left feeling like she has missed a stop, that she's at the last stop, that she's somewhere she wasn't meant to be.
|
107675
|
|
107651
|
Who has the child’s foreskin
The mohel has removed?
Who took the bleeding piece of flesh
His human nature proved?
|
107631
|
Everywhere fear binds the elements
|
107611
|
Barry Gibb, the last remaining brother of the trio to make up the once popular disco band, the Bee Gees, comes out for his encore, to sing a cappella, “Stayin' Alive.”
|
107575
|
All the lights of Rekyjavik...
|
107520
|
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…
|
107501
|
“Kids,” I say, commiserating with my partner Bink. “You can’t live with ‘em, but you can live without ‘em.”
|
107500
|
I got a call from Fiona last night. She asked that I come down this evening, to meet at Penny's place. "It's an Intervention, Al," she said, which told me everything I needed to know about what the meeting would be about.
|
107410
|
She lay down sideways on the couch with her large breasts spilled out toward my face, as I sat cross-legged on the floor, so that they were more or less right there in my face, and well, you pay attention when tits are hanging out in the open like that. S
|
107400
|
Somewhere outside of the future I am seeing Weinberg, the duplicate failed mimeographed onto the front of ourselvescompromised composite grown from a codependent blastocyte talking to the boxes on the edge of tomorrow, collectiblecrystal lined folliclesharvested at the peak…
|
107422
|
My first and so far only visit to my homeland of Prague was first described to me by a tourist guidebook, which laid out many of the fundamentals one must follow while travelling there. It was pointed out, for instance, that we would be “unlikely to enc
|
107432
|
What I wanted was to rewind the film
|
107410
|
“This is when things pick up with the ‘stuffies,’” says Sergeant Jim Hampy of the Vice Squad. “They lie low during the summer, then come back when cold and flu season starts.”
|
107430
|
There was no logic to the thing;
he’d left to drive his girl around.
She had lived and he had died.
|
107453
|
I needed a job. They needed a writer without humanistic moral qualms to create slogans for the Human Annihilation Project
|
107420
|
Edwin was the last thing I bought. With his uneven eyes and curious leg stumps, he was a must-have. When I showed Edwin to my housemates he was hugged many times, and praised as though he was real. Knowing my housemates, Edwin may have saved some lives…
|
107432
|
No matter how many times
flies land on butter
they will never become
butterflies
|
107355
|
The racket of me left
this morning
|
107300
|
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?”
|
107300
|
The last time I was with Terry, she surprised me by crossing herself just before we had sex. She too had been going out with this Mario pimp, with his ski boat out on Fox River. The guy who was going around sniffing after most (if not all) of my old gir
|
107353
|
—but neither Lenin’s serenity nor Voron’s could last for long!
|
107300
|
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
|
107322
|
One hand holds the string-like railing; the other holds a bright silver toaster.
|
107300
|
I like you,But I don'tLove youAnd that bitchDon't love youEitherWhy don't you loveMe?I only love my sonWhat do you hate About me?I hate your nervousnessLack of confidence,I hate your glasses,U asked too many QuestionsReally?Yeah, reallyWhat do like about me?I like…
|
