1250 5 4
|
Many hours to make a brick: many bricks to make a curve.
|
80644
|
in moving cars i am small;
in moving cars i am invisible.
|
72263
|
I sit in a café
and watch the near palms of summer
swaying against the far ridge of hills
and young girls walking along
in their sleeveless summer dresses.
Their shoulders speaking their
long history of sex
and future children,
|
121154
|
...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.
|
114344
|
A rope is cleaner,
he explains with a straight face.
He's calmed by the visual.
|
114363
|
On Tuesday, he wears his suit to the cafe. Of course they'll let him pay! Of course. Under the table, his wife accepts their wadded bills.
|
187262
|
She reached under the tissue and pulled out a third gift.
“It’s like peeling open my heart,” he said, “one layer for each year.”
|
135394
|
His hair was well groomed. The skin was radiant like apples tossed at the moon. The gym membership was well used, as the weight issue was easily cast into an abyss of loaded memories.
|
1680103
|
Several friends—hers and his—hung around the edges of their marriage, and it would be naive to rule out the possibility of a few stray affairs. The thought didn’t anger him; on the contrary it amused him as if it were some trivia question, the answe
|
132554
|
|
112344
|
"..squeezing her eyes and mouth tightly."
|
162122
|
It's true that he had always been more pure than her, looking for the authentic experience, authentic food. And more adventurous. Blogging their way around the world, yes, that had been his idea . . .
|
86044
|
|
131353
|
"Bortne! Bortne! Shushort!" she exclaims, shooting her hands over her wobbly head in pleasure, causing it to again pop off. This time, it's a three story drop from a balcony.
Terrified, he yells "Sneeeeew nuuuu! Oh nee padoooo!"
|
122243
|
He’d tossed and turned all night, pondering what to do, afraid she was living alone. He’d decided to email her two words: “Love you” and signed it “Scary Sal,” as she’d always seemed so afraid of him.
|
211953
|
I’ll tell you what I think, I think
Their hopes of a brush with love
Is what keeps the simple cricket
Awake all night
If you find a baby cricket on its back
Fallen on the sidewalk
Struggling with its legs
In the air
Help it to its fee
|
112044
|
I chose coming away because here at least I feel good — and it makes me feel I am growing very tall and straight inside — and very still — Maybe you will not love me for it — but for me it seems to be the best…
|
53353
|
Underneath the fence she picked strawberriesThey were nickle sizedand some were red, some were green and some with a littleof both/in between They came up from the ground in little patchesand sweetness could be smelled on the windAs the cloud cover came…
|
78644
|
Now your dreams are
headed for the Rhyme or Reason
Convention
where they try to convince you
you can do this
Trying to make sense of
everything
|
118973
|
Sometimes you have to go wild; you have just to go fucking nuts. You do.
|
114854
|
has somehow gotten off its swaddled behind and put on its next new face, your own dipped in glass, of many green eyes for simple fair measure , lifting up my own morning lids with softly pulsating …
|
115144
|
I was so used to the silence of late summer afternoons, when I could roll my hoop through the empty, sunlit piazzas without meeting another shadow, that at first I mistook the footsteps for the beat of a metronome spilling through an open window.
|
120144
|
Lying on a high seat in the south study, this is what I see:
|
104134
|
Ascent/Assent
Together the horizon/
Catechism of love
|
1369103
|
She refuses to let her eyes cry. Her eyes played tricks on her and showed her one thing was really another. They don't deserve to cry.
|
114532
|
^ through a busted window in this desert…
|
201222
|
A solitary snake, his belly full, stretched out in the sun. His uncoiling swept sand and small rocks to the left and right. Ah, he thought, I have the power to move mountains from my path. See how the lowly earth makes way for my comfort.
|
110944
|
|
211144
|
Tonight the autumn air is clear and still. There is no frost to compare to moonbeams; no wind carries lotus fragrance or rustles maple leaves.
|
103844
|
Ok, ok, people are forever asking me, so why did I cross the frickin’ road? Dumb-shit me, of course. Consequences waaay unforseen.
|
