1171 17 9
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A woman who is, say, a culinary arts champion or an heiress devoted to literature such as Bryher (Annie Winifred Ellerman) or Peggy Guggenheim might be able to turn me on, turn me out, turn me around.
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8531811
|
When I saw that Chez Panisse was serving crawdaddies (the menu called them crayfish, but I know a crawdaddy when I see it), I relaxed. I didn't eat the ugly creatures when my brother fished them out of irrigation ditches back on our farm near Roswell, and
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1412119
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Librarians are hiding something. What is it?
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110097
|
“I fly in my dreams,” his mother said. “It's my privilege.”
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15371814
|
it corrupts the smells//
and flavors of the world/
and plants its swollen face
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149866
|
My father was dating already. Her name was Shelly. She had a man-like body, buck teeth and red hair, a big forehead. I don't know what bog she climbed out of. She wanted to fill in for my mother, but I locked her out of my room. I just wanted to be sad and hold…
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146454
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Pombo had never exhibited such powers of concentration with elevators or with other escalators, the young girl confessed to the museum staff.
|
104185
|
The only resolution I ever kept was when I said I wasn't going to create any more resolutions, and now I'm going to break that one.
|
13361413
|
The one-legged crow was back in the yard again today, as it was yesterday and may have been before, but yesterday was the first time I noticed it among the murder while using the binoculars that I often use to bring things closer, things like these iridescent and beautiful…
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20083517
|
She said this is our abode and it sounded like a warble and she made a sweeping gesture with her arm and the boy started to cry.
|
125987
|
First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection:
“Tad Loves Kimberley,”
with a big heart around it.
He was real proud, you could see.
But then later on that year, the graffiti began
appearing everywhere, on all the store walls:
“Kimberle
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126555
|
The first time I saw Little Man was on a bright, hot afternoon near the end of November, when the trains had just pulled into the fair grounds and the familiar smell of upturned turf and sun-basked animals returned to Sarasota.
|
92143
|
He called himself Theodore Birdwhistle.
|
23631312
|
The sign that informs tourists that there is
no access to the Hollywood Sign is the
most ignored sign in all of Los Angeles.
|
114366
|
Winter will be cold this year, you tell her. You read that. She says she is with child with her new husband. You tell her she's forty-five, it is selfish. The baby. It's fine. You demand to be at her tests. Evan may let you, she says. He's a doll. She would never use that…
|
28432
|
IA promised land so tiny, one that rests upon a pin, knows only death as theory, knows only sleep as sin. Disregard the deluge of that which never is, is the nothing that is hers the nothing that is his? Let us go to Venus, pretend that it is …
|
120954
|
I am a sunflower. I turn my yellow and black face, bruised, to the sun, hoping its light will heal me. With my eyes closed I can see my stamen, veins in my eyelids, bulbous where they intersect. The sun feeds…
|
112562
|
"What have I done?
What in God's name possessed me?
Confessions of some college trouble in the 60's.
|
14212517
|
|
14004520
|
This is a lady who never got a break.
|
923129
|
It takes strength to know when not to be strong.
|
117796
|
I saw Vincent one day, sitting at a café table that was situated right next to the quays of the Seine, with another artist by the name of Bernard. Vincent had his back to me, and he was leaning forward in his usual hyper-excitement, gesturing wildly
|
996129
|
The gulls/
have somehow mastered the art//
of avoiding the nooses of six-pack/
plastic rings
|
15352018
|
|
86543
|
What if it was all cut and calculated.
|
78311
|
Blobbing the safety tarmac with human glue
|
14332816
|
Lately he's been wanting to write about love...
|
110932
|
She is not centered, but she finds her way.
|
23893924
|
He'll tell you if you listen long enough the words run together like the teeth of a zipper.
|
121977
|
They say that inside the veins of every Bohemian
lies an entire army of dead alcoholics.
I suppose this is true of me too.
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