1497 5 4
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The daughter's trip, a travail, cross country; the painkillers were not the finisher mom needed—and the white sheets of the institution were too thin to provide her any comfort as she dreamt of swimming; a backstroke suspended over a waterless pool.Her father…
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1272102
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And I don't know how long it will be until she comes outside and figures it all out.
Figures me out.
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135773
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Everyone runs to the plane but me. I get the last seat (middle of 5), crush men’s bags on my way. I’m white & female. They glare.
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123672
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I can't even tell you when it all started to come apart, but I do know that they're just nervous tics, responses to stress. We all go through it.The fact is I wouldn't even be bringing up any of this if it wasn't for the fact of the… incident… Shit, I know I wasn't…
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183733
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Pete told me, honest to God, that the first night he had that tortoise back home with him, he woke up the next morning bald. The damn thing had eaten off all his hair. So then Pete figured he'd strike up a deal with Clarence Magee, the barber.
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128541
|
"His middle name is Valentine, and when asked about it, he isn't sure why."
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131692
|
Dear Jackknife Ponderosa, I'm stupid. Let's move on. Let's move past the part where I complain, where I struggle with circumstance, where I display my petty arms, and shoot holes in the air. …
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1592101
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Do you want an ass mi Nina Bonita? I buy you jeans that work like a Miracle Bra for your behind.
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96733
|
In Nebraska, I looked up from the flatness, to her face, then down to the page and saw this: Real people have joy.
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122843
|
Let me swim into your eyes. Let me show you my world. My album. My Albania. My albumen.
|
124143
|
It was a wake-up call. A sign that I needed to stop and ask if I was making wise and sensible life choices.
My iPod was full.
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120952
|
Have you ever seen a body of words give birth to a paragraph? I won't lie. It's a little gross. But quite moving. First there is the biology of reproduction. A blackbird living in an electric guitar, for instance, and its inexplicable urge to mate with an elephant.…
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80533
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“the calendar of my future was in there!”/
yes: all tomorrows belong to the dead cats,/
their decisions relinquish one day per day.
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86562
|
among and begin / bouquets
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82433
|
“Hey! You can’t be
whistling on Greyhound,”
the bus driver said,
looking up
in the rearview mirror.
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133521
|
time. Night after night he's up, restless. What if she knew his plans? If only he'd bypass his miscalculations and slip through
|
81853
|
I needed a job. They needed a writer without humanistic moral qualms to create slogans for the Human Annihilation Project
|
123453
|
Oh my god - A plagiarizing pony - I know someone must have said that before
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107043
|
Skulk like a lovespun spider in a record store corner
on the orange formica subway car
|
122453
|
He can become anyone. If he wants. He'd rather not but it's not his choice.
|
118742
|
In the exquisite now, I feel everything around me, in me, before and after, I think, I should call you, say goodnight, but I do not, choose instead to write this poem, as though I can capture the magic of what is happening between us in words, A…
|
1035102
|
...cinched the handcuffs.
|
130473
|
Where I went to college, you couldn’t swing a dead cat in a physics lab without hitting a Nobel laureate. I know–we tried. They finally made us stop–it wasn’t fair to the cat.
|
92931
|
Biting my tongue instead of lashing red stripes
|
140982
|
“What are you doing after this?” I asked, faking a self confidence I didn’t truly posses at fifteen. I didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t old enough for any of the clubs they’d go to. I’d heard that fans sometimes followed the band to an after-party.
|
107833
|
" . . . it's overcast with scattered rain along the Wabash River as I approach the federal correctional complex . . . "
|
142443
|
Somewhere in her the name triggers/
a grainy chain of Cheech & Chong
|
118162
|
I was, so I was told, the product of much hard work and a lot of invasive procedures. Initially, I'm sure my parents were making love, but then came the slog, the repeated failed attempts at getting one of mother's millions of eggs fertilized. Those tadpoles just couldn't…
|
115433
|
Hollow as spit over rock
Was the mood in the library...
|
71821
|
A couple, an unlikely match, came together for a brief interlude of time. It was marked, almost a kind of bar code; beginning, middle and almost end. Almost end was not "the" end because it was seemingly fated that they continue the journey through life, if not together, at…
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