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A week ago, Lina had felt a pain crack over her right eyebrow. It was there every day, creeping from her ear to the middle of her forehead.
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140453
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Another Saturday in April. Another set of scars.
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1601113
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Marcel Proust ran about the grounds chasing an itinerant tennis ball and kissing the guests, his huge testicles sweeping the lawn.
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129844
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At any moment, she'll come outside to pick up the day’s newspaper. He can see it resting beneath the blooming crape myrtle, its plastic wrapper glistening with dew.
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157864
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Riding in a pick-up-truck,
the radio wailing
some 'love em and leave em" country song,
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84663
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We have become//
the sum of our appetites,/
the growth curve of our dominion.
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123844
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A man jumped off the High Level Bridge this morning.
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Now it was black line, wall, turn, and black line.
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21183
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I had ink for blood then and “the news” was my oxygen.
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66344
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I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say.
Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure
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118864
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The bartender keeps asking what you smell and you say: lemons, oak, and pear. I smell lust. We move to the reds. Pinot Noir. Cabernet Sauvignon. Port.
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96944
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They were once a crown,of some living stag -- not quite old,not quite young: now bone. Something at the cusp of its age. Here they stand, given by a loved friendon a place in my home; smelling, whenI get very close, of time. They are shaped like small…
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142254
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Beneath the crosshatch gazes of the satellites and above the maze of sound, seahorse clouds exhale a glaucoma haze before they are absorbed into surveillance footage
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106964
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in the pink distance / a boy in a corduroy shirt / sits before an upended electrical spindle / and drinks a vodka gimlet
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108463
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On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing.
“I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!”
My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93 right after she turned 92. And 92
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108844
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Bud Light, B. O.
and Freeloader Heaven,
they step onto the
back of the bus without a cent
We pass by the Karma Wash
but no one gets off the bus
We pass by the
Endless Soup and Salad Kitchen
where we witness a crowd
swarming over a ch
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116664
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I'm an older guy. She is still quite young. I tell her I may be too old but she giggles and tells me that she did the research and it said because there is snow on the roof doesn't mean no fire's in the stove. She proved it. Things like this. We excite ourselves,…
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120321
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Smiling at stones and chunks of earth pounding in...
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122872
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“Careful of the shells,” yousaid. I wanted to tasteyour white, and makea table of your midriff. Georgia's just aplace withso little, butan island nevertheless. Sky's a thing weseem to be, when thelight focuses on…
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129344
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* Dedicated to Bernie MaddoffThere was a long line at the men's room.You know,when men reach a certain age,there is an urgencyto their frequent trips.So I saw an opportunityI said:" I know Bernie I can get you in.""Really?," they saidbut I played it coy"It ain't easyBernie…
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145632
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The pieces of bread dipped us humans in cheese,
the cheese made by cows from our milk.
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139143
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...I grew up in a provincial town which at the time had no bookstore and no library — no library even at school...
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65454
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Wishes are like beautiful fishing lines Pulled tightly around us. My lungs are Full of them I suppose, hopelessly caught On something rough and deep in all the darkened places. Your smile for Me was one of those, if you must know. This swung…
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93253
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alone and soaring in your eyesanother new journey for mebegins; my lifewants to make sense ofitself only for you, goingdeeper, hand youthe keys to that kingdom'srare maps and say,here,"fly, dream, fall to love'slake." You deserve it all.I swear…
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I am confused by your new paper-doll look, btw. Could you please look regular again by Thursday?
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74154
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It's all down to you. To every new morning's baby crying. Down to your blank notebook, all sides opening at once, hands like an ocean of birds.You standing there looking back at me from behind your chosen wall of love's newly made flesh. Your smile like blood…
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87544
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you're landscape
under her flight path, brother
one dash in a dotted line
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“We don’t need to kiss.” I say coyly, morphing the angles of my body to look cute, irresistible. It would be easier if I’d brushed my hair. “Pretend I’m a prostitute.” I instruct, ”They don’t kiss their clients.” It’s a reference I’ve made before, but not
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156164
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I find my mother’s pink Pyrex mixing bowl at the antique store on Fairview Avenue. It’s in the hands of a fat woman in a blue down parka, and she’s holding it upside down, squinting at the sticker on the bottom.
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