1117 11 6
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W here do you think you're going
what'll you think you'll do
running down this highway
that you never even knew
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123386
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The old man behind the counter recognizes fear and anxiety in the boy's face, and sees the brown paper bag clenched in his other white-knuckled hand.
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100477
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These clouds are what I havewith me. Their language is minebut it is drying today aswe speak. I catch the darkeningsparks, but that's not to beyour concern. I am sure youshall go on. What I wantis to deliver your song. Idoubt it is for anybody else.Clouds are good at…
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112296
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Because we cannot know, we keep walking, keep getting up each morning, feeding the cat, drinking coffee. Because we cannot know I'm drinking coffee that morning in Thailand, not on the beach but just off, because there is only one spot where you can get real coffee,…
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159385
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Kids are fascinated by me. Adults look the other way. Maybe it's my size. Or maybe it's the stories in the newspapers.
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107186
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She cut me adrift
On an iceberg of words
And words melt
As you know
Looks like we may have
Gone out on the limb
A little too far without
A toe-hold on Reality
Doesn’t it?
But I saw the headlines:
Cows Bound for Slaughterhouse Make
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132586
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You speak English so well.
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1280116
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I might wish I was anything
including some dust on the shelf
where maybe I might blow away
unseen like the coming of rust
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121266
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The ability to "see the ball" is a gift.
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1523134
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His hands go up and down on me. You love me don't you he says. I don't know I say.
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88786
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Looking at an image of a graffiti on a wall on our computer screen we ask ourselves: what is the image's main graffiti-like property? We might answer: its location. But that is a contextual and political interpretation. There's nothing in that answer which addresses the…
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124276
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The window washer started saving pigeons whose feet were wrapped in fine black thread, the result, he informed me, of picking through trash bins. They are very intelligent, he went on to explain. (Right, trash bins, I thought to myself.) People tend to av
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113676
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Here the three o'clock sun is an old patched up fellow, with a stained yellow beard, walking in a small crispy rain of brown leaves, looking at something that requires a bit of squinting no one else can see, on the far side of the softening…
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136067
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I've measured out our time togethersealed it in airtight bottlesthe one labeled 1998 kept closelike smelling saltsOne whiff a camphor waking memaking me high on the idea of usputting blinders on your infidelitiesdouble vodkas and damaging wordsAnd when that isn't enoughI…
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1325126
|
"Every generation is a new generation, isn't it? What's so different about your generation?"
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1324146
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Marge didn't eat lamb or pork.
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152977
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The mountains of humility went silent, / the rain of regency dried its eyes
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1466106
|
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574115
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When silence makes his way next to me on the narrow path, I let his arm brush mine, and I stop singing with the birds. So, in the vast forest filled with songs and rustling, silence and I follow our path to the edge. Two tranquil strollers, meditating on the ancient voices…
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1458106
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Now that I no longer sleep to see you,
propelled by this motion that is not magic
|
141064
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For a person you don't know, a stranger with a lot of place, you think much of him.
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98896
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I'm mucked now for sure. No one's going to discover my difficult poems in a locked away desk drawer somewhere after the dying fact. I remember how it feels to be knocked out by someone standing next to me in a simple white dress. This…
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1218126
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All creatures know death at their very core, a tacit default--
|
168696
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Wish you weren't here,
Moon man in your cargo shorts.
|
133695
|
Burren-grey, the sky through sky lights
is cigarette ash smashed across July.
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900116
|
Ok, so I know this guy, he's a friend of mine. A good friend, even though I think he's left too big a tip on the bar more than once. His name is Frank.
|
1482185
|
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52395
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The winter sun was going down and she watched it out the window.Light like shards of glass,time had melted.It took hold.She was held down by brown leather straps and she couldremember the smell of incense and little hands and little eyesof an infant cold on the bed.She…
|
1209115
|
So I told her
think of it this way:
you’re my unlived life.
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126666
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I hear
the shriek
of the Laughing Lady
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