1208 8 4
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He spotted her in Sarasota Whole Foods surveying the artichokes
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116165
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Shhh. I am here. Otillie Augustine, from Trieste, an Italian city to you, but when I lived it was part of Austria. Such things as who flies their flags over a city? Not so important after all, after all the losses and the victory speeches. These were not…
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112187
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On high a centaur is pulling a yellow chicken on a sled.
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97922
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The new members were asked to stand up and say their names. One obnoxious, pushy woman from L.A. stood up and said, "Ama Torrent, and I'm an alcoholic."
The roomful of people started murmuring.
Suddenly a man in his late fifties shot out of his chai
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1369149
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Shred the roses he posted, fling the petals like slideshows of storms.
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130973
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In every writer's room there is a bogeyman born in the closet, growing with every blot on the virgin sheet, feeding on the pain of writing, of solitude, the failure, the rage, the confusion, the helplessness, the fear, the humiliation. The narrower the…
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84111
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In 1609 Ben Jonson was hired to write a work in celebration of the opening of a new shopping mall.
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1302108
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Toxins make a body happy/
as if acceleration toward//
an end of consciousness/
is its own reward.
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1542104
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He got up to the pulpit and said that he thought he might have made a mistake. I will never forget the desperate look on his face. He recalled being at his Ivy League school and wondering just what he was interested in upon his graduation and what would b
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128655
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13381010
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If he doesn't bite, I'm out of here.
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67500
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Tonight, as I ate stale fries in the car, /
after getting back home, /
my seatbelt still around me, /
struggling to keep me in place,
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78222
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Are there places that words cannot go? Consider words going where they were never intended to go.
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153931
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In every word there is both music and history. Music from the way sounds come into union with each other, and history in how they get there. There is form too, sure, but I am not a calligrapher. I'm a scribbler if anything. And so my sentences look mo
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127454
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an EZ How to Guide in 50 simple steps
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108033
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I’d like to thank no one.
But especially my first love in life
For putting me through hell
With all her lies and eternal sweetness
Toward all her many leading men
While maintaining she was virgin
Until she met me.
What was the point?
Ah, y
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99721
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I am beleaguered by duplicity.
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355893
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The warrior would prepare for death by writing a death poem. Sometimes the samurai would begin the ritual and write his poem in blood.
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139997
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Give me back my / singularity, my tristesse, my photo ID.
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102454
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and so I'm staying here where I am a little while (longer). Who knows where the time sleeps? I don't think I'll ever catch up with your heart again. That's the same lame novel approach I'm always stepping into to…
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15532015
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Feminine, safe, though disembodied,/
she shapes your life in ways/
your mother never could.
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91311
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What else could I be doing right now,Besides lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling,Looking for patterns in the colors and lines on the tiles?Looking for you,Immobilized,Succumbed to the siren song you sing.Lured to slavery,Yet you are free,Wild,Unable to be…
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1103139
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I was convinced that enemy bombers were on the way.
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1557106
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I saw/
star shine in/
my silver pail
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91922
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We’d sometimes find my mother asleep in her chair outside her trailer at the nudist camp when we drove up. She loved her garden there, even with the rabbits eating her young tomato plants. She used to coax the bluebirds down to the railing of her trailer
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18142418
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If you’re not dead yet, you’ll die of something.
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114578
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In and out of morphine dreams, he flies through the unfinished roof of Illinois sky. Below, matchbox-sized farm machines. A silo becomes his father's thermos, the silver-capped tower from which he stole sips at ten, his first secret. Back …
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133375
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Why flash?because the moments, the moments, they pass in flashes of brilliancethat shudder, death glow alightand nothing makes sense beyond nowand nothing will help me but meand I am not even enoughnot my thoughts or your nod of assentor even the deep sigh of…
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101732
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Palinode: A poem written to retract something said in a prior poem.
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97300
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Mustard stings the corner of his lips. He swipes it away with a finger, and looks closer at the hot dog. The piece of meat is ripped open like a sliced finger stuck in a doughy bandage
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