715 1 1
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Blobbing the safety tarmac with human glue
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715135
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My sacred boxes contained this information.
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71500
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The fluorescents above a constant hum. A hymn. The child lay on the bed as the parents worriedly hovered. Fretted and dreaded. Tubes and wires led from the broken body to machines and computers that fed and cataloged every minute detail occurring in the collapsing system.…
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71400
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I had committed the perfect crime, and I had left nothing to chance; my best strategy was chancing nothing. Prudence and planning were my only allies, and these are the best allies of success. Usually.
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7141714
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My real parents lived about 200 miles in the other direction from where we came. But long ago I determined they were too real.
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71411
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The lock came off easy—they only screwed a hinged hasp on the outside—it took a hard shove to get past a chair barricading the door. As I pushed my way in I heard a screeching crash. Lucky nobody was around. It was my first time bidding on a sheriff's sale…
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71411
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The waves assisted in pushing him forward, until he reached the dry sand. He saw a small resort town ahead. The lights were out in the businesses and homes.
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71400
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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
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71400
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To understand, you have to count the stars.
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71475
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The two boys walked the long dock to the edge of bay,like scrappy lobsters pointing toward the waves,"The cockroaches of the sea,"his father said,It was the old country"Only prisoners were fed lobster.They stayed in the dampholes."He thought the sea ebbed and flowed like a…
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71451
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I sit in a small office amongst a huge pile of letters picking out individuals and arranging them on a big square made of something like paraffin
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71344
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A short sonnet for my sweetheart's birthday.
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713105
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[T]he Thwaites Glacier . . . still exists as of August 2021, though probably with at least five hundred and twenty fewer gigatons of ice mass than in August 2011.
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71398
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When they talk, they put their hands
like a cup around their mouth
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71286
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Yet tenderness resided here
among the canvases,
the tubes of paint, brushes, and candle wax;
the splatters of discarded ideas.
We made love the way people said prayers
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71243
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On the way to
The Museum of Inner Light
Expect delays
Expect bumps in the road
Expect potholes and such
Expect a murder of crows
Rolling acorns over the rooftops
But what I want to know is who
Who eats a butterfly
On the way to
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71265
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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…
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71260
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71282
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A pair of snakes contemplates gulping a pair of frogs.
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71222
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The promise felt heavy in my chest, made it difficult to breath. It was scary to set out to change something that felt so engrained into my own wiring, in my ability to survive & cope in the world.
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71184
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Our ink was disappearing. All of it.
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71111
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Twig arms,
Send me back then back again.
The skeleton of our home
Lives above the town
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71141
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Bum on a Parisian stoop begging
with his big Jackson Pollack
bare head in the rain
The water running in streaks
all over his brain
Reminding him of a painting
He once thought of
Keep going, you’re coming back
again. Get out of the car wrec
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711128
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Scraping the baked on Bar B Q sauce from the grabbing ends of the stainless steel tongs has my total attention.
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71144
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It was a battered, creaky, rickety old thing, this wheelbarrow. It had two wooden handles with cracks running through the wood, a fat rubber wheel and a deep tray encrusted with the mud and plaster and grout that it had transported through decades of heavy use. Based on…
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711168
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I'm panicking trying to think of the next line in this poem
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71154
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It's all down to you. To every new morning's baby crying. Down to your blank notebook, all sides opening at once, hands like an ocean of birds.You standing there looking back at me from behind your chosen wall of love's newly made flesh. Your smile like blood…
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7101914
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To whoever reads this next--Henry James makes my head hurt.
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7101211
|
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70922
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“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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