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I. The girl within the sleeping woman dreams her dream of ending. To her comes the cowgirl with no kids: she's riding high atop her turquoise horse, steady by its braided mane. Silver pistols holstered. The girl in the woman in the dream she's dreaming…
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Conversation becomes Electra, as do her eyes. Electra’s head is grey, like the head of my Frau Freud, Martha. Her intelligent irises are darkly pigmented, and her sclerae are edged with a dramatic, black line of the sort that Cleopatra affected. In ou
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201982
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“They’re Rocky Mountain Oysters,” the blond said. “Fresh. You’ll absolutely love them Jim.”
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128034
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If she does not get to him in time, / all is lost.
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181263
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Your finger quivers as it writes
Upon me words in water,
Words I cannot read nor drink
But feel them as you drink
Them with your tongue
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120743
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He began to chop the powdery substance and separate it into segments.
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142143
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Many years ago I visited a nude beach. I undressed at the car and walked with my companions onto a California beach as naked as the day we were born.
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95243
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What if it was all cut and calculated.
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165033
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Do you know first hiss of batter hitting groundnut oil in a shallow pan, I ask, on a morning after a long, dream-ridden sleep?
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176033
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She stared unbreakingly, confident, knowing; and talked so close to my face I felt cornered. But her voice was something, low and smooth.
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I can't take it bird by bird because I have neither.
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124032
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[YOU BETTER BE READY FOR THIS!]
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82263
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For example a comet hits the earth and everything is on fire is the kind of changed change that can really disrupt your change management and change your journey of change into a running away.
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226792
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spreading gilded pages with a tlickt
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107044
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The world hasn't ended. Your part in it is still ongoing. The going on world hasn't winked out. Every possibility is still out there. In there, out there, it doesn't matter where you are. The here and now claims you for its only tribe. They only want someone to tell them…
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When i close my eyesI see the faces of the deadI hear their voices The things they said, their laughter The ones i thought would live forever!! Something got them though: the ones who lived fastIt was a drug, some bullets, a disease I thought they would live forever!!Those…
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152261
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In his mind, he could hear Eve’s voice, “We had some good times, didn’t we?”
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Can you see the dark advice?The offspring of the hazardous.Plath's worst poemswere Daddy and Lady Lazarus.Would you explorethe narrowing tunnelsof such splendiferous narcissism?Would you call so passionatelyfor a much better resurrection?A myriad of livesthat rise like…
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You're on the Ferris wheel, and the wind is blowing just a little bit, and the sky is invisible behind a wash of white clouds, and your little yellow box tips when you look down, down to the fairway swinging. In the boxes below grandmothers are shrieking …
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129673
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At last, we learn if Blow has the cojones to fight.
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Maybe she thinks in Czech, dreams in German, pretends in English. Babylon is a beautiful place after all.
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I am running for only one thing now. For Katy.
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267043
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In the land of Nebbia, the mistiest part of Etruria, it was the month of Agnosto, when anything can happen, and Melliflua was pondering what to do about the fauns.
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The bus heads west on Route 36, toward the next stop – Howell, New Jersey. After driving ten minutes, and after crossing the tracks, the bus gets a flat.
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"...easier to get milk from a male tiger than mercy from him."
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“Who says?” she purred in reply
“They all do” he countered smiling , chewing on an ice cube
“All of them, huh?”
She leaned forward, raising a wicked left eyebrow and whispered,
“And just who are they, anyway?”
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the sun is quiet like the mountains,
the birds except for their wings
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231672
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Once upon a time, a young writer decided to leave his home in Iowa City, and seek wisdom in the East.
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Written within five minutes, being a parody of the artless vacuity of observational 'poetry'(By Tedward Weeney and Seamus Spews) The large wind in the treetop tells the blackbird its own voice. The yellow grainyard resounds to the clodding of my farmer's…
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