1755 21 15
|
The dog is there, on sorry legs, with sorry claws. He looks toward the man, the bat, and says, You know me, Man. I know you know me.
|
23803820
|
One dinner party, two couples, three bottles of wine.
A moonbeam shone on the balcony. They felt a slight shifting under their chairs and heard a quiet scraping sound, then the apartment slid out from the building and lifted away.
|
18143324
|
No one explained triumph
would feel like this.
|
27281217
|
Let x equal the moment just after he tells her he's starting a club for people who know something about computers.It is summer, 1984, and this is their grade school playground. She is idling on a swing over a patch of scuffed earth. He stands just off to the side, one…
|
23322118
|
is all but invisible. Some say this is because it is within a bakery within a bakery within a bakery and thus appears to be everywhere at once.The cake for God has never been eaten except by children who seem to later forget what it tasted like. Some …
|
17821611
|
the cheek of you! to dream/ upon my sheets in schoolboy peace/ when here i lie,/ each second spent/ a tranquilized tiger cursed with awareness/ for all the flesh so near its maw.
|
139291811
|
It is no easy thing getting noticed on Las Ramblas.
|
21061714
|
a chosen cantaloupe a child let loose . . .
|
23293920
|
This morning, she woke to the banshee: “Individuals must get up early and put in a full day’s work in this economy!”
|
1629910
|
Step off, dude. I have no intention of coming back to you.
|
33952214
|
I used to score girls by taking them on a ride past Frauenstein, up on a hill where you could see the trees, the whole lot of them sparkling white and pink in the breeze.
|
18741515
|
for Bill YarrowPoetry is a way of breathingagainst the enemy's chest withoutlosing consciousness again. Itis a ghost dance. Poetry is tobe determined by the plight of bees.Poetry is a waterfall ona mailing list. I've never tasteda finer whiskey than poetry.Poetry is half…
|
21813019
|
That spring the war still moved north but we did not go to it any longer.
|
19294821
|
I wanted to sit in class in Iowa next to Flannery as she recited that first story that stopped the world with an accent so dense with dogwood we had to strain to collect every word.
|
20753423
|
The happiness was a tablecloth for a picnic. The happiness was the carpet in the hallway. The happiness was the wall behind the painting. The happiness was the sky behind the cloud. The happiness was the seating in the Saab.
|
19072920
|
Keisha was the name she gave us. She said she had no father and no last name. We wrote her down as Keisha B. We already had a Keisha A. She was about twelve though she told us fourteen. Her eyes were older than we dared think. We knew her mother had been murdered and that's…
|
22023617
|
Eat slowly. Wait. Do not bring reading material. Do not bring headphones. Avoid distractions.
|
16971412
|
they'll leave soon for the drive north on the interstate
|
21044219
|
He was not supposed to leave handcuffs or a butt plug laying around.
|
21002114
|
The last time she wore fur-lined gloves...
|
18223621
|
The young boy picks up a coin that has rolled to his feet. It is warm, too warm considering the cold air streaming around him.
|
34743014
|
Some folks say your hands can tell the story of your life. Well, my hands cain't talk, but they've made so many pies, I bet they could do it themselves if you cut 'em off and gave 'em the right ingredients, I sure do.
|
17971416
|
I get it. Poetry is an effort. Language is an effort. Words are an effort. Reading words is an effort. A big effort. It takes energy. Attention. Focus. Who has that? Nobody. So truly. I mean it. You don't have to read this. If you're already reading this you can…
|
18874517
|
|
14942821
|
My only brother. Frantic flesh clings to bone.
|
19011210
|
You wanted to be a writer. Now you’re a writer.
|
21881211
|
a snowflake won’t settle on a smoking furnace;
the fathers were never restless, it was always the earth that moved.
|
33422815
|
When I was miranda and my mother Rose, ours was a skinless intimacy. miranda in Rose's womb, captured in an essence of love, anger, frustration, fear, the overwhelming stress of Rose's life heavy syrup that kept the bond between spirit and body weak and
|
20962521
|
i could make swamp boys believe / under dust-sheets stiffened by ice
|
19292721
|
Madame Fauve, / with a twisted braid, is dancing.
|
