1105 6 6
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Okay, so it's not exactly the lost art of sweeping anything away . For the sad fact that no one searing Love endures just for us. Brown, folded Petals, yellows buttered over petals, I do not Wait to see if the floating moon Can at…
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125743
|
Except for the bathroom stalls—you know the one that goes “Here I sit all broken-hearted”—the only poetry in the house is composed by Hazel, recited to her fawning sycophants.
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102286
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Two days ago the equation worked so hard it shone.
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105943
|
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15021716
|
Ed wants to watch the last half of the football game. His wife wants him to mow the lawn.
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95635
|
I just picked up and
went to Rome
when I was young and beautiful
When I was young and beautiful
I played with life
like it didn’t matter or exist
When I was young and beautiful
I never failed
Beach nudity
Etc
Didn’t move me
But d
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85411
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Adam hitched his dinosaur to a covered wagon. He drove the Virgin Mary to the Faire. Shiva rode behind them in a silver limousine combing out his long and flowing hair.
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100352
|
Environment Canada predicted the storm might not stop for another 7 days. The population of the island was now advised to evacuate.
Evacuate? To where?
|
9651513
|
Neither/
evergreen nor exactly deciduous./
And soon, a yellow residue of pollen/
smearing hoods and windshields
|
95322
|
Suppose Eve, strolling through the sunlit Garden, had not stumbled on that particular Tree at all, the wily serpent twined in its lower branches?
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149494
|
History is replete with brutally imaginative techniques of torture and execution, but I am the only death machine that doubles as a musical instrument.
|
101132
|
I advertised in the local paper for a model.
|
100543
|
I got the news that you had died as I was
eating American chop suey, watching the Celtics.
|
98621
|
“There’s enough food to last here a week.” Ferdinand assured, as a dingy wooden cabin came into view. They were on foot now. He’d insisted on forcing the car into a ravine, using a heavy rock and the last of the gasoline to drive it into a heap of rusted
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76933
|
My lover passes the healing comb
through the hair of my soul
during the night
as she retouches my youth
|
119697
|
In half-dreams she saw a pale alchemist kneeling before a stitched together abomination, witchcraft and science merged, mocking God’s fire.
|
88611
|
They’re exhuming Pablo Neruda
To put his old bones to the test
Determine if he was murdered
At the Capitalists’ request.
|
79521
|
As the patter of our passing feet fades.
|
112022
|
In the privacy of a booth?
|
109633
|
At first we thought metadata rich, non-hierarchical, network based, multi-provider filesystems were our future. An arduous journey but well worth the efforts for the beforehand unimaginable user experiences enabled by new technologies that thereupon displaced the…
|
120063
|
I had the smallest taste. Liquid heat, gifted from lips. One long moment spent lost in her warmth. Fleeting. I should have drunk more. Would she have relented to one more sip? One final taste? “Be careful,” she…
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1099157
|
Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
|
99997
|
I see them walking. They pass right by my house. If I’m outside, I sit down on our porch and watch the parade. Sometimes I watch them out of a front window.
|
98063
|
It was the losers’ bar in my neighborhood.
|
113055
|
|
1373106
|
Things have changed since they strutted the gritty streets of the Lower East Side with Blondie and the gang.
|
88753
|
No girl hits hard enough.
|
84221
|
She positioned the mouse cursor over the word Bikini and double clicked. The hard drive of the ageing work PC chugged into life as an Excel document dragged itself onto the screen.
|
14330
|
Like Frank O'Hara'I do this, I do that.' Her high heels click-click, a sexy click track, across the street: a cliché of seedy male desire, a worn-out image written too many times. Am I a poet or just a voyeur? Sur les trottoirs…
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79812
|
I haven’t written a poem in months.
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