1787 6 2
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The water rolls gently this evening, barely touching my toes before retreating. The tide has been going out for over an hour and already there are several victims – crustaceans, spider crabs, minnows.
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167134
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What I Love About HistoryMy roommate, Cara, wears all black, which she thinks scares me. I've never bothered to tell her I wore all black for two years, eighth and ninth grade, and I'm just over it, not that I think she's lame or passé, but there's nothing remotely…
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142433
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By the time the forked tongue of the flag extended flat like it was pressed between two of my thick volumes on weather forecasting, the man was still walking with his nose glued to the ground.
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129582
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I’d met this crowd of drunken poets from San Francisco
Even though this was smack dab in the middle of winter
Smack dab in the middle of the flattened Illinois plains
Why they all left San Francisco I’ll never completely understand
But there we we
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114442
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Here in this land of cannabis...
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138941
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In praise of the colorful flock with crowns
of teased cotton candy rising high above
Modular walls, stalled operating systems
staling coffee and pale corner offices
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“I take him to see all those sexy movies,” she said, “because it puts the passion back in him. I love what he does to me when we get back home after those movies.”
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115962
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His beard is an eighteenth-century forest / in south central France
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116863
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Spring break that year, (1963) I spent nearly every minute with Lynda. Her taste for sex was unquenchable once we’d gotten started. We did it in every position possible. The sitting position in the front seat of the car, which my brother Herb had to expla
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146353
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Could even drift off to
New Orleans for a slow sip
of a hurricane
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157434
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“That pool will be the death of me.”Which Dad said at least a couple of times a week. Ten times the week after he'd read the TXU bill.“Goddamn pump, and that twitchy little Polaris. We should fill that pool with dirt and plant some trees and Asian…
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133453
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The world follows me everywhere. I can’t get rid of it. I’m being stalked by a planet.
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—Strip down to your shorts. Put on this gown, open to the rear.
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153453
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I'm gonna write about this after...It'll either be a tale of pain or pleasure hopefully the latterI don't understand how this workswhy sometimes I want to hide from myself other times I can just give in, fully,and everything isohsoheightenedI want it to be beautifuland…
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158532
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Boil (n.)––1. Pus-filled pustule inflammation of the skin, usually painful. 2. Slang boiled pus, bucket of (n. phrase)“Your asshole brain is a bucket of boiled pus.” (see also pus, SCOTTISH derogatory term for face.
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167443
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Except for the bathroom stalls—you know the one that goes “Here I sit all broken-hearted”—the only poetry in the house is composed by Hazel, recited to her fawning sycophants.
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159453
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The new king hunted often. We heard her whirring above, the terrible whirring a forest of—, and she drifted over our city half dangling from the chopper, rifle barrel glinting.
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146453
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I've lost the remote control to my brain
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150063
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Some people are born that way, and some people do things to themselves
that keep them from talking. Like opening up a soda bottle with your mouth.
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160852
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He was friends with assholes, so they gave him terrible advice: “If you really want to know if he loves you, be disgusting,” and so that’s what he did.
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While he was in there he saw another man walk in, five years his senior. He was ushered back by a woman with bare legs and a white coat, as if she was role playing a professional masseuse. He'd caught sight of the man's ring finger and it hand a plain gol
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151453
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Night Flowers By Zofia Barisas The garden lies in deep darkness even in the noon of blazing day. A steamy pond lies still in wait for uncertain footsteps. Here aquatic green spiders, big as frogs, spin iridescent webs from leaf to leaf. Gigantic, ancient trees stand…
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163452
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"I found a grey pubic hair the other day."
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115682
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A pair of snakes contemplates gulping a pair of frogs.
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146353
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In the center of the big diorama, the real world hangs in the air by a hook.
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The leaves/
seek reunion with the ground//
and leave the oak tree naked/
in December’s cold.
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24353
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All wolves, my child, want to be eaten.
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He blew out the candle. There was the tang of candle smoke, scattered by a sudden rush of wings, and the immediacy of another breathing thing in the dark. I heard the birdcage open, and the bird fluttering in there without crying out.
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188482
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The Numbers will never romp up the stairs from the laundry room to slip warm socks on your feet on a winter’s night.
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