1895 8 8
|
I know now, how she moves without verbs
after you crushed her into the river.
|
1895 17 8
|
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…
|
1894 9 2
|
You never thought you were capable of rape.
|
1894 4 0
|
Gyan Ban Thoughts - This post is about aspiring models.Scores of these dreams get killed everyday under the arc lights. Exploitation is rampant and millions of cases go unreported.This story is of one such incident.
|
1894 17 11
|
She drew her hands out of the chest cavity and looked at the clock.
‘Time of death,’ she said.
|
1894 11 6
|
|
1894 11 7
|
I've been avoidingyour beautiful fact for years in just the past few hours it seemslike it was the scariest plague on earth. Andit worries me becauseit's something so new that Idon't know what to dowith myself.Yes I wouldn't knowwhat to…
|
1893 2 1
|
A killer enters the room. No one notices, and the show goes on.
|
1893 5 1
|
unbury yourself from the silt and give me some seal love.
|
1893 18 10
|
I miss my fire from the first three races
|
1893 3 4
|
We draw a treasure map in the sandwait for the waves to wash it awayI ask you not to leave me stranded hereIf I'm bound for hell, I don't want to be left behindThe sun breaks through the edge of infinityspills over the line, soaking the sky…
|
1893 0 0
|
I, personally, just had no interest in having some pimply-faced moron stick his tongue down my throat.
|
1893 4 4
|
Rhonda looks guilty as it is, don’t you think? That hair! And the unhappiness smeared across her face like war paint after a war.
|
1893 9 7
|
the observation, at the end, more/
important than the being there—
|
1892 1 0
|
It's dawn. It's quiet on the pond in the Public Garden. The light is calm, the pollution is mild, and everything is still,except for the occasional cruising taxi. It's the beginning of spring-- tulips out, leaves…
|
1892 6 3
|
For some, a vertical pattern will evoke prison bars, for others, product bar codes.
|
1892 42 18
|
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.…
|
1892 14 14
|
That was before Cohen died. Castro died. Castro Died should be a title by Samuel Beckett. Once I nearly went out to buy a bass clarinet just for the purpose of playing along with Leonard Cohen.
|
1892 14 11
|
She'd liked the name of the tanker. The Amoco Cadiz.
|
1891 10 13
|
pluck me from the charred grate
|
1891 2 1
|
He tapped his foot, swished his hips, swaying across the worn tile floor with an invisible partner in his arms, the batter-coated spoon still clutched in his right hand, momentarily forgotten. Nearly a decade had passed since he last shared a dance with h
|
1891 5 2
|
My mate and I are owned, but have freedom to take to the endless sky.
|
1891 18 5
|
|
1891 27 12
|
Borges must be so proud somewhere
|
1891 19 12
|
He held my little hand in his and guided it through the dirt.
|
1891 12 11
|
The other day I’m in the backyard with one of my kids, doing what he’s calling a training exercise, which is basically the two of us with flashlights, shinning the beams over the grass and up into the night to see what we can see.
|
1890 8 6
|
On top of the refrigerator is a small wooden box
|
1890 7 3
|
My favorite was a red bowler, a man's hat, which I never dared wear outside my tiny bedroom. My three brothers wanted it too much to take that kind of a risk. They'd poke me with various sharp objects: the serrated edge of the bread knife, the rusted TV
|
1890 9 3
|
Mesmerizing, the night’s queer colors, the darkness given depth by the earth’s crystalline sheen, by a sky choked with a million fleeting prisms. In the woods surrounding the house another branch snapped, a gunshot loud crack. The echo lingered, cap
|
1890 20 16
|
Just bring me his head, that cerebral kiln of hot, ruddy verbiage and cadence.
|