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CALEBHe'd get up every day,don his clothes and tendto rote ablutions. He tried not to think too much.Because he knew what that would bring --the tethers he lost; failed causes,the last lover, who knew some things.Instead, he kept his eyes straight ahead,marked time,…
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. . . we agree that formal standards for identifying literary merit exist and are capable of being discerned, not merely of being ascribed. —but is this itself true?
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After dinner, I looked forward to taking a shower and cleansing myself of the day’s mishap. Cher had other plans.As I left the bathroom, Cher nipped me in the butt, taking my towel, skin, and blood with her. I remember writhing on the floor outside my sis
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I saw it coming from five feet
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I saw a big dog
By the side of the road
I saw a small deer
By the side of the road
A little maroon water in a glass
As I was driving home
Under darkness
With the wind that was under a rose
New blood will fill the earth
And we must lo
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We know them just enough/
to recognize them when we find them.
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I’d look for a fork and quickly stab a piece of it and bite into it, feeling good about the finality of things.
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"I don't know why you say good-bye, I say hello."--The Beatles Things fall from the clouds. Things fall from thefloor. Maybe through, maybe all the way.Everyone argues for their homeland.Someday I'd like to hold your hand. I'mstill dreaming. I hope it continuesto rain…
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I asked him where he hurt and he said everywhere.
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People of Earth, a better tomorrow has come.
I’m near bursting with pleasure to report that the global community needn’t worry any longer about food shortages and famine and the like. Why? My patented insect-enlargement gun!
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Mark Strandover decadesa steady diet of dictionenlarged his heartone day it just burstRobert Frosta crazy ideathat he couldbuild a wallwithout mortar tookpossession of his mindhe piled stoneon stone higherand higher untilthey toppled overcrushing him beneath Wilfred…
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No one has touched me for a long, long time and I believe that is why I am dying. This is a notion that is new to me but it has persisted over the last few weeks and I believe I finally have apprehended the truth. There was a time, I remember all too well, when I might…
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homelessness, you called the lie,
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And as you try to read, he appears.
No, not in front of you, but somewhere
just behind your eyes. You hear the sound
at the end of an argument, just before
the kiss; you see a shirt fall to the ground
in late summer; you watch him read
as his mouth
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I really think we ought to be drinking
The Wild Virgin again
I remember having a beer once
And feeling like a minor god, yes
Just like you did
So, now, listen to me: if she snores all night
That’s one thing
But if she screws the lights out
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These days, you seem to disappear like bread tasted and devoured
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The cats sniff at the small opening,/
one by one, in a furtive casualness./
They think the outside air is sweet
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Throw them up there but try to make it look tidy. Try to become a little bit paranoid, just enough that you slightly overestimate how much they think of you at all.
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"Maybe so, but you have seen those photos in the National Geographic, right? Do you really want to risk it?" she demands and I sigh in defeat.
I wake up at midnight, hot from too many blankets and pull my bra off through the sleeves of my shirt. I th
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For I would draw a diagramTo signify the things I amBut I think you know--Todd Rundgren The door was opened before me. I know that's not a good way to start out on an adventure, but it is what happened to me. I didn't see any beckoning light, I felt a crazy urge, like…
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It's lunch in the car time at 5:30 pm
The car sits next to the mattress delivery truck
in hope of receiving a blanket of shade
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there’s more to life than poontang
but not when you’re sixteen and
your hands are full of heavy breasts
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It's July, which, if you work in a public library, means that the Summer Reading Club is in full swing. The SRC used to be just for kids, to motivate them to read when school wasn't in session. But in recent years many libraries have expanded the program to include…
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He opened an old book,flipping through its yellowedpages. A small piece of blue paperfell to the floor; he picked it up."Meet Tom at 4:00. Julius Bar."Standing there, Tom appearedas he sat down with the note,putting Tom back together:Tall, he remembered; Irish,green eyes…
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I love you because your eyes are both crossed
When you do it, because you’re focused
On the inside of the universe
I love you because
You’re on a roller coaster
Through life
And I can ride along
For the thrill of it
I love you because
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It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.
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Sometime in the late 60s when I was thirteen I had this paper route for the San Mateo Times.
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My boyfriend unequivocally believed in the existence of aliens. He was the Mulder to my Scully, though when I said so, he had no idea what I was talking about. I never understood how someone so E.T. obsessed could have missed 'The X-Files'.He would look skyward, eyes…
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