974 0 0
|
Darling, forgive me if I seem a dunth
But why must your period come oneth a month?
|
97410
|
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.
|
97320
|
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
|
97310
|
In the store, multi-color kites dance along the ceiling. And in the costume aisle, a young mother shows her daughter how to tie her shoe. “Bunny ears, around the corner…” Glass animals shine in rows on high shelves. A boy examines lengths…
|
97300
|
Ordonez gives me a look that speaks a volume–Volume 4 of the Encyclopedia Americana, Birmingham to Burlington, which includes the subject of bullfighting.
|
97120
|
I don’t know how the nights can be so long when life is so short. Can you tell me that?
I always thought you were maybe fooling around a bit when we met, with that evasive bull about your initials on that brandy snifter, with that JAM person! I ju
|
97020
|
|
97043
|
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…
|
97000
|
The dog catcher appeared to be trolling the neighborhood in his doggy death van.
|
97000
|
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.
|
96921
|
I look back at Bobby, his wide blue eyes staring at me. A dark shadow on his round baby face also tells me that he isn't entirely convinced if the thing is dead in the first place. Because even the folks buried in the town's only cemetery have a way of co
|
96996
|
Imagine a morning without dawn, without daylight ... The night birds still hoot, the flowers wait for the light to change their make-up, black birds have locked their beaks. A morning unlike any other ... The moon above continues to reign over the milky way, the stars to…
|
96831
|
He stood with his cardboard sign and watched the faceless occupants, watched for a car window to lower; there were few.
|
96800
|
as an artist changes religious lore, it was not god who ordained the death of his son
|
96710
|
[insert short snippet of text]
|
96721
|
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
|
96700
|
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…
|
96700
|
Salome said she wanted the head of John the Baptist on a platter, adding
the latter touch of finery for reasons
all her own.
|
96531
|
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.
|
96562
|
When words were first born
They were like pure prayer
I could see them in the sky
And hear them whispering through your hair
But now they’re like dreams
That only sorrow owns
We still need the sun
We need to find
Solace on the ground
|
96552
|
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.
|
96554
|
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.
|
96594
|
The dead tongues chuckle/
in Etruscan
|
96564
|
This is what I am saying now.
|
96440
|
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.
|
96445
|
Friday night, 80s halcyon,a memory of October bowling.The suburban lanes loudwith kids and kinetic releaseof balls slamming on maple.I have no footwork, no senseof release, fingers sweatyin the grips, resin droppingwith a hollow boomfollowed by derision from more adept…
|
96400
|
It's easier to sleep when the alarms don't go off
|
96431
|
Just let there be that self-moving thing, a sweet girl mentioned by innocence in an off moment because of her skin, because of the way rain beads up on it.
|
96320
|
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.
|
96300
|
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…
|
