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I am brokenJust a sliver of what I used to beNot used to missing youStill.After months,You don't think of meAnd it breaks me.Every morning...by the time I've hit the closetI've thought of you.Throughout the dayI think of you.It is my hard place.I can't get over itOr around…
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98022
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I saw God sobbing in a wheelchair. I saw God on the ceiling of your bedroom on Illinois Street while you were inside me the first time. (I remember so many things… Do you remember who I am yet?) I saw myself, far away in a window – the swan on earth
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98000
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97900
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Neil Young told me, “Artistry is like waves. You’re in a trough and everybody thinks you’re gone and then you come to the top of a wave and everybody says, hey, where’d you come from? We thought you were gone.”
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97900
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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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97900
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He was unsure if it was Marxist fervor or some sort of erotic drive, an awry libidinal economy, after years of stasis and depression now experiencing stimulation; but he had this rule that when faced with an attractive man and a choice between yes and no,
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97921
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You made the space between time and vastness depart. Others may erect a little kingdom around themselves, but not you. You did not exult over the held-out heart. Your mind that seemed as if it was formed between two sweet, altered red lips. I always kne
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97873
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I followed the car-path tendrils/
further and further north.
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97800
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He sat uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair and his eyes glanced quickly from one face to the next. The room was small, contained only one window and felt as if it was encroaching on him. It was hard for him to discern what exactly was in the room unless he focused his…
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977116
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is this the end of civilization
is this what i've been thinking of
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97776
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B: Write a short story about men for the gym teacher. Write a candle for the century.
A: How do I end it?
B: Write a synopsis.
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97733
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It's only just a poem. The good that's in us is us. There's a monstrous thing trying to get out and ruin things. To unbalance everything standing on tiptoe. To end the dance. To grab the moment and burn it down flat to the ground. They are…
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97632
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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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97644
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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…
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97641
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to accomodate my 250 lb. dog
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97660
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97600
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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
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97601
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Cars like sardines /
Fell asleep keggling
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97644
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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
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97622
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“Many years of co-dependency,” he said.
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97600
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“Yes. You should probably bring her in.” This was what the receptionist from the Metropolitan Veterinary Hospital told me. My dog, Goldie, had a bloody nose and was breathing heavily.
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97531
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The faint stars began to twinkle in the orange and purple sky and the clouds turned to watercolor and the window became a painting.
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97585
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I admit that, on Twitter, I have been trying to annoy Glenn Greenwald so much that he blocks me.
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97530
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“Hey,” he said looking up from the New Yorker. “There’s a really interesting article about Edgar Allan Poe in here.”
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97543
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Al:In the contest for the Worst Century Ever, the Twenty-first could be a real contender. Chris:The Twentieth looks unbeatable, sure, what with the War to End All Wars, the Great Depression, Hitler, Spain, the Second World War…Al:…Stalin, and Enola Gay. The genocides alone…
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97521
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It’s the audacious testicle dancing in its theater, isn’t it? Carrying the legendary names. The bad blood, the jealousy the heart retains, living again under its skin, rarely enlivened by one of its own.
There was enough angel in you that we would g
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97433
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Contemporary cosmography tells us that both our extravagant valorizations of freedom and our dim regard for some conceptions and exercises of freedom are themselves . . . influenced by sheer physical velocity . . . .
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974144
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I was thinking that the feminists pounding the city pavement had increased rent with every footstep, not that I was not one, but we had not earned our money at it or put our money together.
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97400
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Dissonance is indispensable
Observes Marcel Proust in a rowboat
I hold in my hand a fire
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9741510
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Once a psychologist told me a story
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