548 0 0
|
If you want a nice meal,
writers take you to diners.
They’re thinkin’ noirly,
you want something finer.
|
54831
|
The little miracle of
leaking milk from our skin
The miracle of two mouths
attached at the lips
The miracle of inhaling
another human’s essence
at the onset of remembrance
and the extensive and
naturally occurring miracle
of seeing someo
|
54810
|
It was a gesture on their part, an act with meaning;
they didn’t care about country or science; their love
was their art, their art was their love.
|
548106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
|
54734
|
What we did was walk in on an amazing starfish convention, everyone lazing about, softly frozen against the timeless drooling currents like strange looking wind socks washing up and down with the sun. I am empty, hear me roar in blubbery bluster and…
|
54710
|
My life accelerated by grime in my father’s garage.
|
54600
|
I omit the names not to protect the innocent--there aren't any--but because you've got better things to think about in the run-up to the Super Bowl, like does anybody ever pull Troy Polamalu's hair in a pile-up?
|
54600
|
http://www.punchnels.com/fiction/the-frogman/
|
54686
|
Four ships anchor
Far off shore
Chains slip
Beneath the swell.
|
54621
|
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
|
54500
|
“I dipped a Camel cigarette in ink and smoked it,” he said. “When they took an X-ray, my lungs looked black."
|
54511
|
Two weeks later, on his way to a neighbor boy's house, Tim sees Tony on his way to the nearby convenience store.
|
54563
|
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
|
54411
|
You turned to the beautiful youth because we were light, because we were so full of life that our skin alone could not seem to contain us. We were burning on all sides for the world. Shade, shadow — nothing. Nothing the moon. You lifted the cloth and peer
|
54431
|
The life, the burning up that works up our loveliness, hot under the surface that is tempted to show forth its parts after being confined, enclosed, shut in. Beautiful honey-water sliding out of long bleak skies, after all the howling of our legendary you
|
54411
|
Because someone whispered Mona Lisa in her ear.
|
54400
|
Unready for the world,
we pawned ourselves
for a longer lease on youth.
|
54421
|
You had to put up with
Sunday drivers
You had to love children
All children, all of them!
This is what it took to be God
It wasn’t fun
You had to be patient, sometimes
You had to pretend to look the other way
You needed to lose your he
|
54421
|
I found you at Darrell’s, the bar down the street.
A place where loose women and tight men might meet.
|
54474
|
As Sebald says, I grew up in the shadow of war....
|
54464
|
We were going shopping, and they put me in the women’s shoe department at Macy’s so I would really have something to write about, and maybe you can imagine what happened.
Well, this one woman sits down right in the chair next to me, which I thought a
|
54331
|
He stood with his cardboard sign and watched the faceless occupants, watched for a car window to lower; there were few.
|
54256
|
Last night I dated the universe. What a hottie! I arrived on time and was feeling a bit spacey. Look at me, I said. I'm on time. Yeah, well, I invented time. I made sure you'd be here on time. Cool. Where do you want to go? Doesn't matter. Wherever we go I'm already…
|
54211
|
not otherwise employed, writing verse,/
line by tenuous line the substance of pulse./
―but no one collects unemployed verse:/
self-lacerations must yield blood, not ink.
|
54200
|
I used to say I’d rather walk on the moon with my own rapacity, and you can easily say things like that, given the luxuriance of youth. But it was a lie, if you want to know the truth, so much hot balloon air, puffed up in the chest. That is not how i
|
54055
|
|
54042
|
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…
|
54040
|
With his toga thrown over one shoulder because it was so hot out which has led to various and sundry theories of the naked centurions riding on horses in this manner through some unimaginable desert on a long march or even along the banks…
|
54022
|
She knew that she was bland and overweight and dull; that what was beautiful in her was locked away like a tiny maiden, far, far away in a tower, too difficult to find or reach. She must face her lot, grateful for her family and her work.
|
53921
|
There had been a whore house at the spot for a century, since the cowboys drove cattle up the Chisolm Trail to town, to be loaded onto boxcars bound for the Chicago stockyards.
|
