1010 3 2
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The blond hair lifts slightly on the skin of my arms. In my mind I am nodding, listening to you in your bedroom as you read to me from your poems. The veins along my arms standing up interestingly. I probably have small breasts, yes. I look up, searchin
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101020
|
“So, I’m watching the feed from Garowe and, by Allah, there’s a picture of Mohamed Guled, I can’t believe it, with a rocket launcher.
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100900
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Tuesday Night at The Shop and Shoot Damn, I look good,” Damian says as he checks himself out in the mirror in the locker …
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1009104
|
amphibians returning to the scene of the crime
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1009116
|
is this the end of civilization
is this what i've been thinking of
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100920
|
On Terry’s eighteenth birthday (the summer of 1966, the same year you graduated from high school, and the year I broke up with Sharon) I took Terry out to Fox River on my dad's ski boat, and opened up my robe and showed her all there was to show of myse
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100900
|
"In the shit the dogs circle, talking of a dead bitch, maybe Merkel" - Michelangelo's poem of a stultified flower that never emulsifies, an orange California poppy of pink-gold drenched in urine and a horse in either burns bright whinnies and trollops neigh a pipping…
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100821
|
Whence came a tapping at my door, a tap tap tapping...
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100800
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The razor finds hair, and cuts, eats away at the layers of hair I've built up since 16. Built up these layers of hair. Built up layers of hair. Big ears. Big layers of big hair to cover up big ears. First thing I got was this haircut. Haircut the moment I got in here.…
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100832
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My grandfather’s soul
And his infinite high-pitched laughter
Intervene
And the alcohol that
Brought him closer to heaven
But that wreaked havoc
Among his family
And my father
Washes down the gullies of the
Future
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100821
|
The boys back in the rental office must be wondering why we haven’t left yet. Maybe they thought we just wanted to sit in the car and listen to music.
|
100884
|
I, like Sara, am the last of my kind still activated. I am a Machine of Loving Grace.
|
100854
|
Sitting on the surface of it, near the entrance to its sex,
A tiny child sitting up, the flower enormous,
The child sitting in the white light
That is almost granular.
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100820
|
I knew this woman would come up eventually. She used to wait on us at Villa Nova, while a bunch of us sat drinking
|
1008115
|
When silence makes his way next to me on the narrow path, I let his arm brush mine, and I stop singing with the birds. So, in the vast forest filled with songs and rustling, silence and I follow our path to the edge. Two tranquil strollers, meditating on the ancient voices…
|
100800
|
A man stood on the beach, looking out over the ocean. He watched his son practicing turns in his sailboat, and pushed his feet Under the warm sand. Above him someone flew a silent helicopter. "That's my son," the man was screaming even though there was no…
|
100844
|
We were clinging to hope and innocence
Until the second jet struck the Twin Towers
That was when real evil twisted our hearts
And we were left without prayer, or power
Yes, a couple holding hands jumped from the building
But when I was the o
|
100800
|
You don’t want to get a reputation for being aloof by not joining in the fun at a Super Bowl party. What you need is verbal “gamesmanship,” a conversational technique that can be used to fend off the bores who make up the majority of communal football-wa
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100744
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He didn't know why he kept writing. There was no reason to write. People ceased reading. They played video games. They watched Netflix. They walked down crowded city streets staring at smartphones. He was sustained in some weird way by the momentum of writing. As if the…
|
100700
|
On weekdays the two walked,The man in front and the boy always behind,Away from the borrowed house and the kachina dolls inside.Neither of them said anything.The boy thought of things that just wouldn't come out,and the dirt road was always just wet enough thatThe man's…
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100730
|
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100730
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In another dream I am you and I am giving birth and the pages you have written are flying out of me one after another and appearing like speckled moths near the ceiling of your bedroom, and they have my eyes and some of them have yours.
A soft singi
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100720
|
The timing could not have been worse.
Because of the heat building up over the weekend, my bathtub had cracked.
|
100631
|
The faint stars began to twinkle in the orange and purple sky and the clouds turned to watercolor and the window became a painting.
|
100611
|
Man on aisle nine looking for the answer to cancer
Will the partially clothed couple on aisle four please put the rest of their clothing back on
If you are finished doing whatever it was you were doing?
Man on aisle five trying to imagine
Whil
|
100674
|
|
100530
|
A salesman, a born salesman like my brother, is always and only involved in the Moment, and it is the sale itself that is at the heart of the moment, and my brother Harris was really at the top of his form as a salesman. It can probably best be said, th
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100532
|
Flu Fighters
Hood Ornament
Good Hydration
Jacques Strappe
Tar and Feathers
Bad Oyster Band
Mysterian and the Skid Marks
Nimble Candle and the Streakers
Uniball and the Supporters
The Skinny
Rubber Band
|
100585
|
I admit that, on Twitter, I have been trying to annoy Glenn Greenwald so much that he blocks me.
|
100511
|
"chemical", love is/as long as saccharine is/served in coffees sweet . . .
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