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I was seeking nothing more than this: to have my suit altered.
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Stories Around People An Event Facebook lived in midtown, for there the people and windows shone like water. Though it would board the bus—1 day—and ride to the sea, where people said words like sea and where the city shone in the waves…
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But those burning red numbers persist in my mind
and I can't rest 'till they're gone
They always come back
Like the cat in that childhood song.
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It’s always fun and easy/
to punish the poor
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“Mules don’t like to dive, Esther.”
“I said maybe, Hugh. Maybe.”
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I may be the shadow that I am, but I only ever loved you.
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They couldn’t have done it better if they’d waved guns around in the air.
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The monkey did not live for long. He’d lost interest in the stuffed dog pretty much right away. The farther away the shuttle, the more garbled and fanciful the sign language the monkey had been taught became.
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I am so happy to see winter almost gone
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Antibiotic ointment didn't help. Maybe Granny medicine would.
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The same, some things you Can't explain, most trees Have felt it go bone dry at the roots before. I've learned to let love Go bye bye. You think they don't Want to answer your pathetic knocks, But they're…
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I ask if anyone has a poem or a story they would like to read. Everybody's hand shoots up.
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No one believed me when I told them this: I took all of my novels and tossed them into the fire.
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He hasn't had a wedding ring in years. When George's knuckles began to swell — a little arthritis — his ring dug into his finger so bad his wife Loren took him to the ER and had it cut off. The ring, not the finger. He never knew there was a tool to cut rings,…
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Nik Wallenda was going to walk a wire stretched from Sarasota Bay across US 41 to a condo on Gulf Stream Drive.
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She thrust her proboscis through seven layers of dermis and began to suck, filling her belly with his Welbutrin and Xanax infused blood.
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The careful paths of larger versions gave me enough time to think, to sense their fears from pauses between footsteps, and prepare those minutes, hours, weeks before they decomposed into my whole.
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Post No Bills.
The Crouton Mavens.
United Burglars Union.
Crockpot Mistakes.
The Heavy Doors.
Fire In the Yurt.
Douche Baguettes.
Upsy-Daisey.
Schmazelhood.
Sidetrackia.
Flotsam and Jetsam.
Argyle Sox.
Roachmobile.
The Adulterer’
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There's something in the space youare tonight that's for me asweet presence in my own life,and so like any othercoward I write a poemin vain. It will never beseen as itself by you, butpossibly be mistakenfor an open window. Somewill definitely call itfurniture, some will…
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where is the magic at?
the spit
the dirt
or the words?
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She sees Connick Jr. now has a microphone. He is singing “All of Me” as if he meant her to take all of him.
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Rory and Betty Sloan entered the first of 40 rooms in the new Motel 6 to place Holy Bibles in 40 night tables.
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Dead drunks sing Christmas/
songs-
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Did you really think you were going to cure cancer with that poem?
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It's important to make a sure sound. It's not impossible you know. It's just funny I suppose, like being in a dream of another dream. All these things could be mashed and tumbled together to make us one big clay hero, someone…
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is this the end of civilization
is this what i've been thinking of
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It went like this: We were at the river. It had been a long day. The sun set over the hill tops, now. Me and Danny sat by the edge with buckets of water full of small fish and some dead crab that we'd got from the market, earlier and looked out over the small waves the…
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After the show they talked at the famous comedian, reaching the way they do, with their arms. Their arms are curved a good way, a better way than the older white planes of my own.
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