1247 9 6
|
I saw Vincent one day, sitting at a café table that was situated right next to the quays of the Seine, with another artist by the name of Bernard. Vincent had his back to me, and he was leaning forward in his usual hyper-excitement, gesturing wildly
|
1840116
|
You haven't lived until she dances just for you ..
|
209385
|
It was beautiful and bright and it felt so real.
|
8686
|
Your malnourished maniacs choke on gourmet reputations
|
1048126
|
She thought she would be happy nowA new beginningA new lifeit wasn't to behe tore up all her nicememories
|
212485
|
This is where he died, she says to me, and points to the damp pavement. Her hair is wet, and slicked against her neck. The humidity is making everything engulf her. The sleep shorts I bought her last July are loose on her now, but between the rain and
|
1661126
|
She bought her first gerbil at the age of nine. She wondered if he would die from endless logrolling. When he died from natural causes, she refused to bury him and kept a distance from the first boy who kissed her--Thomas J. Hobbit. The next year a twister swept…
|
191875
|
I think they've always been together, talking amongst themselves about whatever is happening around them. A part of me wishes they'd walk into the cave and disturb whatever is burning it from the inside out.
|
155765
|
I have two memories of my dad. The first is a story he liked to tell: So my old woman came home one day with a worm. She sets the worm on the counter and goes into…
|
4138105
|
Honey, you eat this salmon, now
|
118276
|
We exist to facilitate/
successful conclusions of hopeless lives.
|
13976
|
When he left home to be a stand-up comic, he broke his parents' hearts.
|
145776
|
|
81955
|
"Where've you been?" the image in the mirror asked. "I haven't seen you since yesterday," she said.
"Yeah, I miss you too," he said.
|
276956
|
You were like a delicate lace
that barely mentions the wrist.
But you were also at your best
with strings attached.
Let me say this. If innocence
is supposed to be so overwhelming
as to do nothing on purpose,
not carried away by sensatio
|
1715126
|
|
80685
|
I'm on my way to work the Saturday night dinner shift at Slug's
|
1162145
|
“In other words you're going to lie through your teeth..."
|
109676
|
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…
|
1689105
|
The waters rose / on the earth
|
1463104
|
Digging in another garden, jumping into another space and time, I impaled a toad on the tines of a garden fork. At first I thought the toad was a clump of clay, stuck to the thick tine, but before I could kick the clay off with my…
|
118166
|
Flew a Messerschmitt.
Drove a tank over people in Poland
though not in Prague,
and claimed he was never a guard
at the death camps.
|
117366
|
state a shambles, mountains and rivers endure./meanwhile, the city hides amidst spring's thick growth . . .
|
114565
|
Before you tripped on the third rail, you were like any other: coat a shard of midnight-blue, eyes filled with gratitude but for nothing. You were a lost coyote on a snowy hill. With sad magnificence you wandered, terrorizing passengers who secretly wished to pat your…
|
1636104
|
So, like I said. Da. I have dealt with the men, when I was a lap dancer. The men they need the….manipulations. I have good hands. They want me to see them naked, their power. Here it is only the women. The massage, the facial, the waxing...
|
412784
|
We're on a bench in the park under some trees close to the carousel when she tells me I can't count on having a career as a professional gambler.
|
131695
|
My life was growing on me like a soft Scottish moss
|
1667105
|
Are we like a poem, a short hand of words curtained together, evoking a mood, but in the end, impenetrable? We follow the clues to our lover's heart and what we find isn't him at all but ourselves. We fill every part of his life, every part of his past and even become…
|
203094
|
I think that I write toward death and to stave off death and to remember the dead and to address what is dead in me.
|
146586
|
I think about the weight of those words—how they are silenced
by the weight of stone, by the weight of 11 years in a Jinzhou prison cell,
|
