235 5 3
|
I'd had way too many drinks. My legs were quivering. Everyone had gathered there in the kitchen, my sleek and attractive ex-wife the center of attention, all the men fucking drooling over her. Seems she was a yoga queen now, a vegan princess, a dancer somewhere. She…
|
241117
|
IN the waiting room Maggie watched Joe rise and shuffle his best shoes towards the doctor's door. Standing, he seemed frailer, so frail she felt guilty for having given him a push on the bus step. Other pushes came to annoy her. But before she actually felt the pain of…
|
18865
|
"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one of my own. For nobody I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…
|
23454
|
i hope that day comes sooner rather than later.
|
20532
|
In the mirror an owl staring you in the face once again,/a fraught fragment of life’s puzzle. But you pretend it’s. . . .
|
16321
|
You say very little when all is ready, the coffee and all, and afterward, during the ride, and even less as suddenly thirteen women pile in.
|
23083
|
|
23496
|
my love for you/ is like the falling snow
|
243177
|
the burning thrusts/
of yellow in defiance of the frost
|
25183
|
"I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence, memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime." Francis bacon “Feminine …
|
217168
|
Lou Reed was sitting in CBGB,
I was sitting on Greenwich Ave. and West 10th street.
I didn't know him then and I didn't know him later either,
but we were both there.
|
22854
|
I suspect I’ll make the right decision.
|
18032
|
Warning:
The cure for laughter
is only temporary
|
19042
|
|
22933
|
“C'mon Billy, don't be s-s-s-s-scared.' said the voice coming from under the bed. Billy looked over the side and saw a pale white, bony right hand with it's forefinger beckoning him protruding out from below. The nails were yellowed and cracked. And long. Very, very…
|
20743
|
a ruminating marsupial? if so,/
I guess I’d be a kangaroo, the cud soured/
and pasted to the tongue . . .
|
17811
|
The waves assisted in pushing him forward, until he reached the dry sand. He saw a small resort town ahead. The lights were out in the businesses and homes.
|
18865
|
I can walk among words, Scatter them like birds, to compose two thirds of a poem, when they settle on nearby wires, in an order inspiring wonder. What do they think, when I scatter them asunder. Bring them disarray, Shape them to a…
|
235117
|
|
57865
|
Is every librarian a poet at heart? I don't know, but a group of librarians recently put their heads together and came up with these library-themed Valentine's Day poems: Roses are red Your book's overdue You've had it for months Which is…
|
19933
|
A strange man tapped my door and held up the shoes for me to see. “It is the Dork Shoe,” he said. I looked past him at his dusty station wagon filled with boxes. “I have your size right here.” I observed the halo of his gray hair as he…
|
17233
|
I feel like I should tell you
things about strength.
|
23097
|
Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?
|
242146
|
I am the ritual/
banalities of days numbered,/
numberless, and numb.
|
253127
|
Loosely based on a true story.
|
37686
|
|
18333
|
I’m living at the Edge of Graffiti
And yet I still survive
Because I walked across the line
Separating me from the rest of mankind
You can see me out here
I’m in so much pain
All that’s written on my face
I think it’s pretty plain
|
22765
|
You don’t want to tango with me, she said.
|
253128
|
she lifted and threw her legs out the open
side front window of the speeding auto
|
23144
|
This is your mystery, your story Full of beauty and all-encompassing loveA brushstroke washes the canvas cleanYou start over with a new directionDreaming of me as you paint your wordsWriting just like Keats, Shelley and BrontëAbout sorrow, rain and the wheels of…
|
