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It is a day of swallows and grasshoppers, of white clouds and suntanned arms. In the yellow field wheat ears burn, lit by fantasies. One of wheat, one of rye. Summer love, holiday love is in the air. Under the thickness of the harvest, their roots search, call each other.…
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I couldn’t parse the grammar of her body
nor decode the secret softness of her neck.
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he thought of her / longingly
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Children imagine dying all the time, especially when someone in their life, someone close, has died. Children's games often include pretend dying, flopping around after being shot for about three minutes, choking, falling to the ground and…
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I'm sure someone somewhere must havefelt something like it before. Imean I've never been able tohave this kind of deep longing asif you might want to forget everythingyou know. I always figured that funny stuff onlyhappened to folks in a foreignfilm. Not to some guy…
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We'll Thelma-and-Louise it, I urged, Bonnie-and-Clyde it, she bettered, Sundance-and-Butch it, I proffered but she was already leaning in for a kiss.
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His feet are the size of thumbs, the segments of his toes no larger than grains of rice.
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A lot of people are like this--they thrive on On conflict My bartender is that way-she likes the Confrontation She wants to fight and argue and haggle And I never related to this In anyone Well, people are scared, or pretend to be Scared at the bar. Some…
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How could he care less what those below thought, when everything below him was demonstrably beneath him?
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It came up heads so he is going first. He puts on a condom and gets in
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I visited the grave of Rimbaud. / It was pale blue
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to say that he was
doing fine
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The list of things to live for/
shortens with age. The list of regrets/
lengthens.
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Stupidity is not a mask; it is the face / and it is the face that betrays us / always.
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Each little token is the world/
as you knew it at each time and place
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Maybe it takes as much fortitude
To forget
As it does
To remember.
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Girl with glasses and
skinny fingers
playing with wires
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In my upper room, a sermon/
was playing about sundry.
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Not only half-full/
but stress-fractured
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Life was small. It was tiny even, so tiny it was hard to see it sometimes. Life curled up to make itself even smaller, to fit into the kinds of holes that insects crawl into to get away from bigger insects. Life was sad. Life didn't want to be an insect.
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When I no longer know you, what signal will you give to remind me that you and I once loved?
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As I go by I see five, six high school kids standing on the corner waiting for the bus. They are huddled together like a bunch of ducks....
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I don't know how long I was down on the curb. When I came around it took several minutes to realize that it wasn't the moon overhead at all but a street light and the sticky feeling stuff I was lying in was, yeah, my blood. And the hand on my shoulder wasn't hers. I…
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They are running the bulls in Pamplona
this afternoon and they have no idea
how to do this and they are
way too old for this
and they want to relive their youth
and run the bulls in Pamplona
They want to drink like Ernest Hemingway
and run
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People huddle in their basements like kittens. People laugh, darkly, saying they'd rather be surfing. People wonder if their batteries are charged. People never do get what they want. People grow tired of the sad dog following them around. People want you to know how…
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On Monday, May 7, 2018, at the age of 67, I had a stroke.
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I arrange my stones in circles
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This is the place I could find my breath. I didn'tSay I understood it. I only wanted to hold someone andMeant to. I don't care about the rules for caring.This place where I could speak was incredibly far from Where I'd once met you. The place where I could…
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