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I dreamt I was Vermeer
For just a little while
I took this photo of a criminal
A mugshot really
And claimed I had painted it
From memories of a previous life
He looked just like a Vermeer
With the light coming in
From the side of his fac
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70942
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“... More weighty than wisdom or wealth is a little folly" (Ecclesiastes)
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71588
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The garden grew tomatoes.
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8261511
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I have become interested in Carracci / Ludovico Carracci
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9331212
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A thin line separated her lips, like something sketched with a pencil.
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96286
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“Outis of Utopia” my found name! / I'll inscribe it soon as the tide goes out.
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80194
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798168
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I'm panicking trying to think of the next line in this poem
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11131710
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It is a day of swallows and grasshoppers, of white clouds and suntanned arms. In the yellow field wheat ears burn, lit by fantasies. One of wheat, one of rye. Summer love, holiday love is in the air. Under the thickness of the harvest, their roots search, call each other.…
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8081312
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The little Lady and I drove down to New Orleans to take in the Mardi Gras festivities we’d read so much about.
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101288
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now I cannot shake. I am only one person. Thereis a sadness I cannot understand. Fathom. Control. Manipulate. Detonate.I used to kiss her tenderly. Do you think this sadness is wise to us? Don't point that gun at me! There is a sadness. There is another war. Iam…
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57221
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We were in love with the same disease.
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68753
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I tried to drain the ocean
But only got a waterfall
I tried to drain the sky
But only got a thunderstorm
I got lightning
I got rain
I had to build a city
By blowing on the palm of my hand
The sands rose up
The dust blew away
And all
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72021
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A couple, an unlikely match, came together for a brief interlude of time. It was marked, almost a kind of bar code; beginning, middle and almost end. Almost end was not "the" end because it was seemingly fated that they continue the journey through life, if not together, at…
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71363
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In 1997, I was exploring a used bookstore in Camden, New Jersey, when I stumbled across a two-volume hardback copy of The Dictionary of the Khazars by Milorad Pavić, a book I had been meaning to read since it came out in 1984. At $10.00 for the set, I couldn't pass up…
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99821
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Wesley did not rob banks in Banning County. Wesley Roberts was the sheriff of Banning County; robbing its banks would have created a conflict of interest.
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75686
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“No,” he says. A simple lie. “I -” He pushes the sleeping bag off of his legs. Their getaway reset was a mistake.
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67775
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9882012
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The eyes, luminous and large-
each an infinite bright blue ocean
Wind ruffles feathers
My ego and vanity also/
encourage me not to wear a mask.
An aberration/
that general circumstances/
will remedy, and soon.
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63511
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And the promises of promises
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957128
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He switched off the light. His wife was breathing softly. At her bedside he told her of her friends the roses, of the pretty carnation brooch he had pinned on her silk scarf, of her coquettish hat which fitted her so well. Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night…
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53600
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Crosses sitting on the hillside
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68753
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I think someone’s
Got their foot
On my foot
Not holding me down
But maybe helping to ground me
It’s almost like they’re
Tapping the top of my foot
Now and then
While listening to some kind of
Internal music
Tell me
What part
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805177
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are you afraid sometimes, in the night, in the wind as it beats down your maelstrom thoughts?
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73153
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If I have not heard of it it doesn't matter. My hearing is a life force.
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841129
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Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…
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77721
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Amir was a ghost, and he was terrible at it. No one had taught him how to be a ghost. There was no orientation, no welcome packet, no handbook. Ghosts started in limbo with only a name, and nothing else.
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67754
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they deafen you with cute / knive you with sugared songs / with machines turn love to silicon shit / hurl you at the god Fun / debrain you in their schools.
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929118
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None of this is real, he says, and the path slopes down to a house that is possibly haunted. One always looks in such windows, one cannot not look at the predictable detritus of another's failure, a queer satisfaction, a fairy's dust. But no, not real, none of it. And…
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