1733 4 2
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It scraped at Paul’s brain like a cat’s claw at the door. He hadn’t heard the song in years. Was that the Searchers? The Seekers?
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1733118
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often as i lie awake i wonder are you awake too?/
we never had any children, he said ruefully/
that summer i cried so much that robert called me soakie/
robert, dying: creating silence
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1733118
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Erin Hoffmeyer Zulkoski. I was at work today, doodling on a piece of scrap paper. I often find myself writing my name, practicing my signature, for when I become famous. I have always written "Erin Zulkoski." Today, I wrote "Erin Hoffmeyer." This…
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17334218
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At the Cimitiere Montparnasse he offers the girl his raincoat. I'm searching for Samuel Beckett, he says, and holds an umbrella over her as she consults her map. We're close, she says, pointing. I'll go with you. Then we can visit Simone de Beauvoir. My name is Scarlet.…
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1733178
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I kiss his sunburned nose, so nice under the beach house. We hear the shower of palm leaves like wings getting ready. We talk about a time we'll no longer know each other, when he'll be sad in a bar in another state, slipping and sliding and petting lost dogs in the parking…
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173243
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First you must accept /
the speed of light as constant. /
If you can’t do that, stop reading.
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173296
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Wish you weren't here,
Moon man in your cargo shorts.
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173222
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1. The Walking Heart Attack Man has two outfits. In the summer he dresses in a short sleeve checkered button down shirt and high waisted Bermuda shorts with sandals. In the winter he wears dark pants and loafers with a gray corduroy coat…
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17311917
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It felt like I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, like I’d walked into a house that looked like mine, but belonged to someone else.
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1731187
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This is the only time she feels she can be herself.
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1731106
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So when they shake a finger, when they yell, she remembers Miss Whalen saying, “It’s not for keeps.”
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173033
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Blacked-out out on junk, I bet money on a sport I hated just last year.
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1730237
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By morning it was over. I crawled farther out onto the ledge. The three year old was screaming like Donald Duck. Trains ran into the night. Several pigs entered the open window.
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172977
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Somehow, I have your body,
but you’ve gone missing.
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172964
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On the Shore, Tel Aviv, Winter 1974
From the Songs of Crazy Dolores
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17291513
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Poets who thrum jirble and thwack
Poets who thrum eat quorn with raw swamms
Poets who thrum are eristic (not shambolic)
Poets who thrum deliciate unto kench when they freck
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172967
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It was never this warm down where I was born from an excess arm. Or maybe I was wanted. As an arm, I mean. I could have been shed defensively, though I don't know who would eat anything as spiny as my species. Of course I don't know what would eat me; I have not been…
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172976
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...some years later I heard that an old friend jumped off that bridge to her death.
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172986
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Someone's shaking powdered sugar on the tree limbs. Someone's turned out the lights. It's a beautiful morning.
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17292012
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I drove to you in April / and you loved me all through Illinois
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17291616
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There's a mirror in front of me and I thought it was so I could see myself, but I didn't want to see me.
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172952
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Having a single blurb on your book cover is like having a single friend in grade school. So I lied.
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17281512
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The man had come up behind me and locked my arms backwards. I could feel his cock or gun against my low back. He told me if I moved he'd hurt me and he said did I know what that meant? I did know, however I was watching from…
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1728119
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strumming on the pipe/blowing on the lute's body/drumming on the horn.
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1727910
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Step off, dude. I have no intention of coming back to you.
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1727911
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The understanding we made was neatly wrapped up in its own blue tissue cocoon like a neatly rolled joint and dumped unceremoniously into the forgotten past like a plate of leftover digitized lies. The lid was slammed shut. Time passes too tightly. And you …
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172762
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But only to watch the boys squelched over and over — only to suffer the longing of a life I will never live with them while in the nunnery of honey.
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17271312
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But by day the birds / of prey were in control.
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1727148
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once she went to quenchthen she went to scrubnow she collects dead toadsgrinds them with cornmeal to feed her sowsonce she ploughed the land toiled with her face deep in dark soil her back burning in hot sunnow she works in the paper millmaking laminated labels for the…
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172783
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"My boy Jake fell in with a bad crowd when he went to college," Coffelt says, shaking his head. "A bunch of accounting majors."
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