964 10 5
|
the poems/
we never got to will remain,
|
97097
|
She grew tired of waiting for her husband to give her a flower so she picked one for herself.
|
109576
|
“Somebody told me you write books.”
|
1545165
|
Her eyes stared wide with panic, her teeth chattered intermittently with impressive intensity, and with her ineffectual stabs at the air she completed the portrait of distracted mania.
|
95831
|
i ask you what i taste like and you say "not much."
|
113286
|
Your laugh used to startle the nurses.
|
73053
|
Most of life, it
turns out,
is pathetic.
Very little is funny.
We have to generate our
own laughter.
Canned laughter
may have to do.
Even if we have to carry
the can around our neck
like a Saint Bernard
or strapped to our
hip
|
21120
|
I saw you, old man, in the desertof iron and copper and cold.No sorrow there to subvert,your eyes repulsed by the gold,examine the joy of an apple,ponder the despair of a peach.The words you wish to unravelare words beyond limits of speech.I can tell you hide a strong…
|
127673
|
Susie watched the record, her mouth agape just slightly, the spinning vinyl unveiling the powerful sound of a voice she'd wanted to hear her whole life.
|
117765
|
Ivan was used to explosions, but this was high in the sky. He was on his back between tall sunflowers that grew infinitely in all directions. The blast made the flowers bow their heads. Bits of debris fell from the blue sky, some shiny, trailing fire or smoke. The boy…
|
161701
|
Well, just put your hand on my knee, alone in my room, perv, unasked-and-unflirted for, go get a date, you coward, you limp-dicked male bitch . . .
|
1204172
|
You can tend to recognise the difference between a good and mediocre mind by observing how each reacts to a misfired original idea.The mediocre mind will praise the merely meretricious, but ignore the more interesting bad art. The higher mind will value the misfired…
|
92132
|
Bounder squirmed out of Francesco’s hands and ran into the kitchen.
|
81174
|
One day, he decided instead to be-pet them,
|
92833
|
You and she might make love here, next week,
and I'll buy my own razor, switch from baths to showers.
I shave my legs in my imagination.
They, like life, are smooth.
|
93944
|
Hours later, when I was on the phone trying to explain in broken Greek that I didn't have the money to pay damages, I started to retrace my steps from that souvenir shop I reduced to dust.
|
96533
|
I will not leave the boat.
The sea has left you.
|
1067137
|
|
23142
|
The silent that are silent, they know no defiance. They are the true inexplicable, the true unheard. Science is Religion, Religion is not Science. The image of the word, it is not itself the word, it is just as it is, an image, some thing for the eyes,…
|
80544
|
|
107322
|
The research facility is located at the bottom of a steep and jagged valley, far away from Heaven, and the anguished eye of The Almighty.
|
90176
|
The green on your shoulder Is worth all their papery property taxes And then some. They cash in every friendship As if it were nothing more than a Ripened apple for pie. Get rid of The thing before it begins to Rot into some…
|
100321
|
The elephant was breakable and I know that my grandmother held her breath every time I went near it, and I was repeatedly cautioned that it was not to be played with only admired. She taught me in her own way, respect for it. She may have commented on the green with a bit…
|
116022
|
Why yes I began writing this, my bildungsroman, Who is Mitsy Jackson, in spring, 1974 or thereabouts, and thank you so much for asking.
|
1090810
|
Life is not always quixotic.
|
12952414
|
Does flight exhilarate the sparrows
|
80743
|
We could act the anthropologist.
|
75344
|
Hanging out at the
Imaginary Friends Café
with all my imaginary friends,
poets, itinerant musicians, etc.
Writing close to nothing.
Can’t finish a thought,
so I’m composing a book called
“Not Quite Haiku,”
which is unfini
|
28631
|
Sally Sally Sally, don't you go round those roses,those roses, they can hurt you. Now that someonehas written a poem about youit is maybe not the poem you would want written about you.In another universe you may have been a revenge haikuprinted on a greeting card on…
|
905108
|
|
