879 2 1
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Benny and Sylvia rolled apart, still laughing, caught up in the magic. They always laughed afterward her cheeks always dark red, apples ripe for picking. A little backwards he thought since her apples had already been picked. Even better, he had picked them and it…
|
87932
|
why were ghosts in wry mirrors feeding on hope?
|
87820
|
Suddenly a Shakespearean sonnet, …
|
87862
|
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
|
87844
|
behind your one perfectly showcased yet irreplaceable earlobe, like a still inflated island-- in order to float away on any slight rogue gust of gregarious wind-- seedling tool kit and so I mistakenly thought I'd just …
|
87800
|
He was the first football hero the town had ever known;
so fast, he ran rings around teams from other towns.
|
87710
|
The soiled concrete sings to me a symphony. /
I try to place my ear on it but a millipede /
enters my brain and consumes it: /
|
87600
|
As we entered the circus tent
We passed the big cats' wagon.
A sleeping tiger lay
in what I knew was hay.
|
87600
|
“Why, that's the faggotiest thing I've ever heard of!” Richard M. Nixon actually said. But how could he say that? Henry went there. …
|
87663
|
I dreamt I was Vermeer
For just a little while
I took this photo of a criminal
A mugshot really
And claimed I had painted it
From memories of a previous life
He looked just like a Vermeer
With the light coming in
From the side of his fac
|
87500
|
Demeter's daughter comes to her when swings From green turf, all that keener hearth, whose brown Had been more mournful, in its nuptial's crown, Than all the transit buds that seed each Spring: When I, or we, say lateness brings recall, Of…
|
87532
|
this vaudeville world has turned all into stage— / the message appears on each screen and page: / every domain and institution—staged.
|
87520
|
In my dream I am the showy leaf, and you are the stem and you are the strength. I am the leaf turning colors, my face flushed, the blonde hairs at my neck, and there is the deep carnal twisting around your stem that sends me floating to the ceiling over
|
87432
|
with so many thick curtains hung out to shroud/ so many unlit eyes, Night you’d think could spare/ a small few for our diversion . . .
|
87421
|
It was 1984, that foreboding year, I now
recall. You were in the hospital,
your cat having snagged your nail.
|
87420
|
|
87487
|
Adam, bronze and lithe, runs laps on the beach
|
87421
|
(it) looks out at the world
from behind a film
(it) does not participate
(it) is slow to love
. . .
There is the image
And they say they are
in the world
. . .
Blood does not
shake their hearts
They lie and
take your s
|
87431
|
It comes to our attention
you have what it takes
to join our enterprise.
|
87463
|
|
873102
|
Each day he rolls that goddamned rock,
|
87342
|
For Algernon Afloat, on tidal difference's separated songs Let nothing spare her mention, still belongs That sterile tone mismissioned to my ear What love's illusion balanced most when throngs Of hummingbirds advanced, methinks, to hear…
|
87354
|
The first thing I realized I was hearing when I woke up from the land of nowhere was the brittle sounds of little frozen rods of rain crashing into the sliding glass porch doors relentlessly and cracking into tiny shards of split piles in…
|
87221
|
[Scumbag scumbag ― fuck you!!! Stop reading this it's my private JOURNAL!!! Thanks. ;) ]
|
87231
|
He stood with his cardboard sign and watched the faceless occupants, watched for a car window to lower; there were few.
|
87150
|
Oh, by the way
here’s my old phone number
548-7899
Remember?
Call me
It will ring
somewhere
in the past
We can make
amends
|
87111
|
Two weeks later, on his way to a neighbor boy's house, Tim sees Tony on his way to the nearby convenience store.
|
87020
|
Their son doesn’t eat anything. They can’t see how he keeps growing.
He’s like an air plant, living on air alone, all the while knowing
they themselves will never live on air alone again.
They sewed their wild oats. They lived their universal life
|
87022
|
Their raging energy felt like a unified force that could catapult itself in any direction at a second’s notice, like a heat-seeking missile targeting the next warm body.
|
87050
|
My relationship to poetry resembles that of Patty Hearst, the newspaper heiress, to her abductors.
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