994 7 4
|
I was disappointed with love, and like everyone else, stammered out of love
into a place horrified with meaning.
|
15692118
|
One day a woman, one of several translators at Ellis Island, asks him why he has changed a passenger’s name from Checzowicz to something else.
“The name was too long,” he says. “Ten letters.”
She replies, “But you didn’t change O’Shaughnessy, and it has
|
1240115
|
So I told her
think of it this way:
you’re my unlived life.
|
130184
|
I awake one morning to find that still,
the leaves continue to fall.
|
103444
|
They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…
|
114722
|
The first days of October are ordinary in the way that milk just hours away from spoiling is ordinary milk. You can baptise your cornflakes with it, but part of you knows the whole thing is just shy of almost right.
|
12271510
|
I didn't hear your last words or see your lasteyes. I didn't reach you in time, so I sat by your corpse,silently saying goodbye. I am in that process,not sour, not sweet, that yoked speaking which can't(because the heart won't let it) utter its whisperedlast word, but…
|
97032
|
Rain dressed for winter, a win, she thought
|
104200
|
A Nocturne, whose grey mana seeped out of it mouth, grabbed the roof of the building with its large claws. Using it as leverage, it stood itself up, hunched over, its long whale like head roared like a loud horn.
|
99433
|
By February, I had decided,
That you'd tear out my throat every morning
if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.
|
116343
|
" History ...is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake."
|
114022
|
Robbie’s wrists itched hard, the cord was sunk in so tight his hands were bordering now on blue, now purple. Too late to matter.
|
98321
|
A horse is a horse
Of course, of course
Unless it's a horse
Without a Loofah
You better look into the mirror
Check the picture window too
I may not be the only one
Who's broken
Don't it take a little more
When I'm not with you?
Don
|
1497159
|
At the graveyard, the leaves had been raked into loose array....
|
116988
|
Able to search through centuries, I click, scribble, skim,resurrect wet stone walls, the smell of burning peat.Bob's your uncle; Peggy's your aunt.Name your family, child. My brother said helloto Uncle Shirley and Aunt Greg. I was more…
|
100663
|
|
1205146
|
The white space beckons-/
a blank wall in a decrepit neighborhood-/
wishing to be decorated or defiled
|
1203124
|
It will always be this way/ won’t it, she said.
Me insecure, you unfaithful
|
14092214
|
Over the years, his face
began to alter
|
102453
|
In the neon light and barroom shadows,
|
124498
|
Like the swift night-black blue of a cormorant as it suddenly dips into a rush of white cold water,eyeing its possible food, we too sweepdown on what we think we see, rising wet sometimes with the reward,or hapless, dripping, we try again.
|
84511
|
"chemical", love is/as long as saccharine is/served in coffees sweet . . .
|
1339148
|
...painted by my mother with meticulous attention...
|
144288
|
So she set about eliminating the problem, all the time recalling some newsmagazine program she’d seen as a child: a discussion of hantavirus, nasty and deadly and spread by mice.
|
1512128
|
"Stop watching the news!Because the news contrives to frighten youTo make you feel small and aloneTo make you feel that your mind isn't your own"--MorrisseyThe world has gone crazy, but please let me make you One of my healing songs. You can eat it now, if you…
|
1059159
|
I will wrap up in quilts that still smell of summer sun
|
1288108
|
no more trying to keep / the peace, no more trying / to keep every person happy. / Just this: no more.
|
124387
|
Pale like a tracing of a memory
|
1226146
|
He hates this body no less now/
than he did at 14 for its pudginess/
and the hair that can’t conform
|
99823
|
we get back to discussing how long a year is although no one talks about what a woman is or a man and they are just there. rocking chairs rock. sitting and spinning, just like spider’s spin waiting for him – to make a coffee.
|
