322105
|
The candle was near the windowsill.It smelled like the musk my father used to spray before he went awayto work.Oh father, I remember you,your chocolate brown eyes,would watch the sunrisebefore breakfast;serious- so serious and waiting for something that…
|
32154
|
Apple is apple plum plum that is a kiss without a tongue
|
32132
|
in dark recesses of this morgue of earth / where beauty of the good does not compel, / where evil's horrors seldom do repel— / Americ gods reign o'er from birth to birth.
|
321103
|
|
31942
|
No one knew why DVices were so hard to find. No one knows for sure anyway.
|
31873
|
There's a man in a Mackintosh reading Harper's Bazaar, I think many things are bizarre, I think the possibility of things not being bizarre is bizarre. Sometimes I'll have a great notion, doesn't everyone? I dreamt I fought in the civil war in the…
|
31843
|
|
31743
|
|
31522
|
The new kids never even met you. They know the story of you. They will have it by heart by the second week and include the gruesome part in a letter home.
|
31594
|
|
3152217
|
His face is lined, lost, resigned,
|
31483
|
It isn't fashion or politics, centipedes or Morgellons, but the sanctity of melons, the squeezing out of juices. Now that we are purified,addicted to the colour red, neon signs announceelectricity is dead.A tranquil crowd of strangers, anxious…
|
31382
|
IGlasgow, its swollen bleeding face, its unrepentant eyesProud inside its operas, vain within its shames.Watch these sanctities unsound shrink into their oneness.Set these centuries alight, peer into the flames.Into their time descending the pedestrians now cease,all is…
|
31264
|
I wonder if she is my real mother, if I could get one of those paternity tests and find out if she’s my real mother and if the guy she told me was my father was really my father. I can’t remember him very well, just a lot of him screaming and hollering an
|
31151
|
A pale-faced manwearing a bright yellow wigonce said to me“never read literature when you're drunk"now here I am,at a window tablein the Libertine cafe,eating my words,wishing I had been a monk.Across the street loomsa gallery front,where, in large red…
|
30942
|
Yes keeps falling out of my mouth
|
308169
|
|
30754
|
PhD's in remorse. Babes without eyes. Presbyterian church-goers baked in their pies. Miss prim-and-propers stranded on meadows. Men rescuing cats then queuing for medals. I did not write this, I swear I did not write this. Saurian…
|
30765
|
The Buddha on my wooden desk says all things are Chaplinesque, that all's a self-containing joke, a cube of ice in a glass of coke, a sunbeam dragged thru autumn leaves, the residue a lover leaves, a kind of vein,…
|
30742
|
|
306188
|
Mickey Mouse mini-nukes are often placed in children's school lunch boxes for cooling sandwiches, though an accidental meltdown could cause the food to become dangerously hot in both senses of the term.
|
30663
|
Concupiscent you cling to a truth like a demon,but please, contain your self.By all means, exert, but once in a while,rest, the illusion of love is love and you have always known this, like cherriesand ice cream and pictures of Mount Fuji.One who has found yourself in a…
|
30673
|
Cut my karmic rip-cord. Shower me in angel dust.Let me embrace the gray, this isn't loveat first sight, this isn't blindnessat the twinkling of any eye, this isn't the timefor the blowing of any trumpet.Anyone can dowhat they can do. Didn't you know this? Or are…
|
3052011
|
|
30511
|
Ay Federico sit down and let me make you some Cuban cafewhile you rest those versus you left behind when you were shotat the border or some plain in Spain. Dear Federico rest, rest my friend while I tell you about my tia Ela Lee. Of course we did not call her that. We…
|
30567
|
The moment you realize love is never finding you everything evaporatesdroplets of dew are everywherethe sun doesn't have to penetrate a cloudfor you to feel the sunshine pulling weeds is like drinking a glass of water sweat falls down…
|
30577
|
I spend my time sitting on the back step—poison oak reddening my arm—under the eaves, waiting to escape.
|
302116
|
Let’s start with the end—death. Upbeat, huh?
|
29963
|
|
29865
|
|