959 9 5
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The winter sun was going down and she watched it out the window.Light like shards of glass,time had melted.It took hold.She was held down by brown leather straps and she couldremember the smell of incense and little hands and little eyesof an infant cold on the bed.She…
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95910
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I turned and gaped-
In horror gasped--
There was no clear escape.
Down Winter Street, up Park perhaps?
Too late-she had me in her grasp.
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95810
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[insert short snippet of text]
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95863
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The fire was so fierce,so fair like an opal;the most primal burn."Death haunts these trees,"the woman said, as she held the potof beetroot soup above the fire.They spoke from the basement; living in the dark space,nerves too locked up to to look out the windowand…
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95720
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Papa was fucking the artist’s wife, Lillian, and the artist knew it but was afraid to say anything and she had broad, muscular brown arms and loved the sun on the sea and also she was just as athletic as the great writer and caught the big fish right alon
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95700
|
A tattered bird had a made a tomb in tepid water, it was a puddle near the framework of a half-built room— but the soul's a swerving tunnel and the dead are waiting at the end: all sorts of animals huddled at the fringe where littered pine needles stand and creep…
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95777
|
what-ta-hell, fuck this/he snorts brushing/
the dust from his shoulders
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95732
|
this vaudeville world has turned all into stage— / the message appears on each screen and page: / every domain and institution—staged.
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95700
|
My distinguished white-haired boss sat behind a table at the entrance of the building and gave me a forbidding look. You’re fired, he said. Get out.
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95643
|
for Edward Victory is death. Rock stardom is death. Life is murderous.Love's still beaded much longer and stronger than any row of round headed lovers. You can't stop death from turning to face you, but itsnot exactly expecting your poem's referral either. In…
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95621
|
They left their great need
behind
when they were taken out of the country
They live without thought
of that blood
They do not respond to anything that
calls to it
They are shallow
They feed on image (alone)
Blood does not
shake their heart
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95540
|
It has been more than three decades since I returned to work from a noon union meeting to find myself, along with about twenty others, locked out of the printing plant where we worked.
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95520
|
When one hears the siren call of artsy high school love, there’s not much one can do except go ahead and crash on the rocks, sending incense sticks and candles flying.
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95500
|
Pushing the "surge of steam" button has latelygiven the mother a feeling ofpower;She pushes a button anda loud gurgling sounddampens the spiritof even a 100% cotton item,and forces it to be still andstraighten out.I need a button likethis to affect my family and…
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95500
|
She put on her hat, and walked into the back area, where she found a locker that held her name badge and a tube of chap stick.
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95552
|
That was when we discovered we could make one shadow jump right through another and come out whole on the other side. Our shadows were indestructible. It was one of those moments of discovery maybe only gallons of pink Chablis could bring on. Or dope.
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95510
|
“An attractive woman is at a ritzy brunch. She’s drinking a really outstanding Bloody Mary and decides to try a raw oyster on the half shell.
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95500
|
as an artist changes religious lore, it was not god who ordained the death of his son
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95322
|
Let me tell you about extraterrestrial bingo: it's loud. They put the speakers over my head. And the microphone keeps moving. Most of the organisms here are old. And from another planet. I see a lot of tentacles. A lot of auras and bugeyes. Everyone seems to know the…
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95354
|
they deafen you with cute / knive you with sugared songs / with machines turn love to silicon shit / hurl you at the god Fun / debrain you in their schools.
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95300
|
Salome said she wanted the head of John the Baptist on a platter, adding
the latter touch of finery for reasons
all her own.
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95231
|
Everything sensed is a drop of experience in the cosmos. Writing brings on the rain.
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95231
|
His wife leans her head against a beam with her eyes closed
while he reads out loud.
Her mouth shut tightly, almost twisted shut. She’s so weary.
She raises her collar and sinks further into her neck.
When he shouts, or explodes – nothing.
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95211
|
I have things that I should do
but I will lie abed with you
in homage to our deaths last night.
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95222
|
Now her right breast was annoying her.
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95253
|
If you ever find yourself outside a funeral home lighting up
contemplating the future of the unknown, contemplate this
Maybe the cigarette’s wet on your lip and you are wondering why
Or in the middle of the night you are lying awake
and try sa
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95240
|
At my college there were film societies for foreign films, contemporary films, documentary films—you name it. The people who ran these clubs tended to dress in black turtlenecks and wear berets—indoors!
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95200
|
sometimes when i tell myself i want to die i’m like ok dude whatever join the club just the other day someone online asked me whether i knew where he could get a copy of that japanese book about how to kill yourself
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95161
|
The Trust Fund editors said they are leaving Germany. They have been there while I have stayed home to tend American refugees.
|
95100
|
Both of us agreed we needed to break up, and have some time apart before we ended up killing each other. Before Robbie left Chicago to begin classes out in California, he made a promise to me — that he intended one day to return and marry me.
He sai
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