1051 6 6
|
of a strangely found desire. I wanted to tell you something important, I'm sure, I mean it's pretty obvious, even in this funny breathing space, but everything has been said to death. More isn't always…
|
1208 5 6
|
Sometimes I think living in a house with so many rooms /
you can get lost just making your way to the fridge /
should be enough. I chastise myself for wanting more.
|
1294 7 6
|
In human rights, a man and a woman may marry and bring forth a family. It is a civil right in the U.S. but not a human right (as far as I know) to raise a child singly without the knowledge of the other parent.
|
3302 12 3
|
She was an easily lit, wide hipped, Stoli-drinking, schemer from Irkutsk that got her claws into an American riding the Iron Rooster from Khabarovsk to Moscow.
|
387 11 4
|
Christian Bell can’t sleep in/on the following: airplanes, car trips, couches, first nights in hotels, jury duty holding area, commuter train, work breakroom, tent, park bench, the ground.
|
1213 9 5
|
Then I found myself in the water.
|
1188 10 5
|
I could still feel you like horseradish / in the hairs in the back / of my nose
|
1184 16 5
|
As the music concludes, I'm finally in control of my emotions . . .
|
770 8 6
|
“No,” he says. A simple lie. “I -” He pushes the sleeping bag off of his legs. Their getaway reset was a mistake.
|
1317 10 5
|
"Some Purgatory in order, innit?"
|
1170 8 5
|
The problem with drinking gin in the desert is that eventually there is no more gin but the desert is still there.
|
974 5 5
|
Z. takes lewd/suggestions/with little blinks/of his everlasting/eyelashes.
|
1285 7 5
|
The snap of a broken heart is exactly One second longer than this poem is going To be when it finishes up being said . The snap Of a broken heart is unlike anything that Cartwheels out of sync with the rest of Us truly lucky ones. The broken snap of a …
|
1092 8 6
|
I woke like an animal / breeding thoughts like flies
|
1366 5 5
|
|
1417 6 6
|
He hung up and I sang some whiney lyric about wanting him back. You know the songs that say the same shit: I’m an idiot. Love me anyway. I’m Velcro with nothing to stick to and you’re a nappy surface that gives me a reason to exist.
|
1136 9 5
|
My relationship with Uzma exists on several levels, from basic to abstract, from animal magnetism to spiritual journey.
|
1476 10 5
|
there she was, this beautiful duck with her 4 beautiful babies, under my bush.
|
1139 11 5
|
The smell of garlic, soy, and onions/
exhausted from Skillman Wok/
perfumes December air.
|
1450 8 5
|
And because the film is French, the camera pauses / long moments at the curve of her neck, it watches/ her finger vermilion tulips in a vase. Her new lover,/ a wisp of a man, looks good in leather./ The camera pans quickly across beige suede,/ rests long
|
1453 8 5
|
As long as he could still take the stairs, he would go down there to be with the memories that each piece held. He knew that their time was about up, because his was too. His wife had already gone, and even before that she had long stopped using the washe
|
448 13 5
|
Death is both alien and intimate to us; neither wholly strange nor purely one's own.
|
1553 6 2
|
In the morning, Alan woke with only a half hour before he had to be at work. He pulled his clothes out of the dryer and folded them on the top of the washing machine. On the side of table he noticed, in among people’s old, stray socks, a button like one
|
233 6 5
|
|
1151 9 5
|
I'm putting makeup on my face. The woman next to me is reviewing legal briefs.
|
1335 6 6
|
War The once shining lake was busy draining itself. All the better cared for boats were looking like disjointed discarded single shoes in a messed up paint chipped closet. No one was thinking well okay a leaky sole is better than a wounded heel. You get the…
|
95 12 5
|
The Sobriety Group met at four every Wednesday night, just in time for the seven members to get a good table at Patrick's bar to drink beer by six. “Beer's not really even alcohol,” laughed one and then all. …
|
1428 11 5
|
when thoughts of you
waffle in through memories scent
|
1057 7 6
|
One/
can’t always trust the eye and ear//
in such matters but what can one do?/
Mistakes will be made.
|
1866 7 6
|
Eating Grief at Bickford's · From Allen Ginsberg's “Kaddish” There are no places anymore Where I can sit at a threadbare table Pick at the crumbs on my plate And wipe The white dust From my pitch …
|