1093 0 0
|
What a world I imagined! Lacking organized armies, resting at noontime under a canopy made gentle by passing, natural creatures with large warm eyes, set afire by the influence of constant lust and destruction. Turned to marble by love. Who wouldn’t wan
|
109311
|
Forgetting fractures her body into a vast flower of fragments
|
109220
|
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…
|
109243
|
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
|
109232
|
What I wanted was to rewind the film
|
109241
|
to accomodate my 250 lb. dog
|
109200
|
I remember this shot taken of you in a bright blue summer dress, with your arms spread out, leaning against a wood fence near the beach, or by Lincoln Park maybe, your thin body leaning back and long blonde hair down bare arms. Other men will remember h
|
109200
|
I can't show you the territory- not quite yet, not how I see it. But I do have a map, a glorious and vain construction. It gives you a glimpse, a sight. I wish you could see it all.
|
109110
|
*a drunk amid worldly boundaries*
|
109100
|
what happens to literature's characters when their readers traverse the veil?
|
109122
|
Here is a blank space soft and white like paper extended indefinitely.
|
109100
|
Part I I look down at the milk soaked, fabricated, Bits of synthetic nutrition and The feeling comes over me. I race down the highway in my gas guzzling, Smog belching, status symbol and still The feeling overtakes me. I look at my precious offspring, I see…
|
1091116
|
" If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stomping on a human face--forever." 1984, George Orwell
|
109163
|
It's good to be home.
It's good to be home.
It's very good to be home
|
109133
|
It started with crows. I'd walk the switchback trail to the top of the park with its outlook of the city and if I didn't see any crows I'd whistle and they'd come swarming from everywhere. I'd give the peanuts a toss and the crows would caw their heads off and peck at…
|
109100
|
There's a boarded up Chevron a few blocks down the street from where I used to live. I still pass it every now and again as I'm going to and from jobs. When I lived in the area, which was about three years ago, there was this one red-headed female gas jockey that seemed to…
|
109141
|
as if someone had spilled a bag of perfect diamonds on the world.
|
109041
|
Eugene O'Neill is remembered as a troubled, brooding artist, but he had grown up in the theatre and was a hustler for the business of himself as well.
|
109031
|
I thought I saw you once
When you were still quite young
Surveying great beauty
Like a rain shower in the sun
And I can still hear them nearby
Those sharp voices of our youth
Shouting with pleasure in the fields
While looking at the sky
|
109040
|
Two girls in vests hogtied his ankles and wrists with a severed lamp cord and barbed wire, spun him dizzy around the room.
|
109021
|
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.
|
109022
|
Are there places that words cannot go? Consider words going where they were never intended to go.
|
109041
|
Was it only for the vast dance of the darling soul, that you were born? Not to give up your genetics? Made for the use of the future, were you? I should have known. I heard the wind that swirled within you, even then, when we were so young.
You were
|
108931
|
The faint stars began to twinkle in the orange and purple sky and the clouds turned to watercolor and the window became a painting.
|
108900
|
Sunday nights weren't massive.
They were Sunday mornings that remained.
|
1089102
|
Boy, it is weird out there, talking to real people!
|
108910
|
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…
|
108920
|
I don’t like telling stories. I’m far too honest and give far too many things away.
|
108911
|
Addictive plants... attractive dancing...
|
108921
|
A couple, an unlikely match, came together for a brief interlude of time. It was marked, almost a kind of bar code; beginning, middle and almost end. Almost end was not "the" end because it was seemingly fated that they continue the journey through life, if not together, at…
|
