1424 10 5
|
It’s a bitch of a day, devious. It started out calm and then those monsoon showers hit. The lads legged it back to the vans for a bit of a warm sup. He was going to follow them. The rain machine-gunned the window.
|
1369 14 8
|
When Kat returned home from The East Street Wars, she learned that her epileptic lover, White Dog, died from madness
|
1382 6 4
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Gorgonzola. It's what she was to bring this time. Plumtree's potted meat. What it was last time.
|
977 15 7
|
but most times/
it’s just improvisation//
with phrases of unknown origin/
swirling in my head
|
1384 11 8
|
The wind has no voice
and yet we listen,
perhaps imagining the ramblings
of a mad man
|
1684 15 8
|
It is pain taking a form, Plato’s dream, born from your hands father that rejected me, giving me the color of abandonment, eyes dulled by isolation, a body deceased without life-giving touch.
|
842 11 8
|
I heard a voice. It was calling me as from a far-off cloud. I listened, holding my breath, and heard it again, though fading away, barely audible. If I hadn't known my name I wouldn't have decrypted it. Three hazy syllables clearly detached with a sigh between each of them.…
|
998 15 8
|
We are the same shits/
we were in the Bronze Age
|
1063 10 9
|
We’re lucky it/
was chunky spew,
|
1277 13 7
|
Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.
|
1152 15 9
|
fat furry marmots who play hide and seek
|
1416 15 9
|
She tells Tuesday's lover that there's nothing wrong with cheap thrills without anesthesia,
|
1993 21 6
|
"... he likes the hair starting to grow under my arms and he likes the smell there when my deodorant is wearing off. "
|
970 11 8
|
|
1201 14 8
|
|
1221 11 8
|
Flames dance behind glass
|
882 15 8
|
It is imperfect,/
eroded by the optics//
of light, space/
and orbital mechanics.
|
1481 11 8
|
in time there is nothing more important for meto write than this line. It isn't defined in the way you'd like perhaps, but it doesn't matter because it will be true, and you will be true, and I will be the message you get. Some signal has…
|
1430 11 9
|
Cherry was America's least favorite pie. Her mother made it every year for her father's birthday because "daddy doesn't like cake." America had to wash the bowls, the wooden spoon, the plates and finally the Pyrex dish. Her brother got to "contribute" by climbing the tree…
|
686 14 8
|
The diner on the corner is one of those Disneyfied modern cut-outs trying to mimic the actual thing but failing utterly. The street, a vein of hipness running through an Ivy League campus that is still trying to cling to a time when it all meant something
|
1138 15 8
|
What's that snitch doin' here?
|
1093 12 8
|
That’s a long time/
to live with the certainty/
of your death
|
1312 6 7
|
The wind is wet today I can't tell you where sky meets sea only that it matters I can't explain why. I've triedCan't see the horizonbut I know that we have drawn itfingers tracing far pastthe edge of blind infinitywhere we sang stars to sleepand pinned our…
|
1194 9 9
|
not every punishment proceeds / without a hitch
|
1059 10 9
|
At five o’clock Jake joins the crowd at the back door, walks through the slush to the parking lot with Betty Boop.
|
1160 13 9
|
No king of Ithaca, but of each/
whining, banging, dust–clouded island/
of focused, physical work
|
718 11 8
|
Gestures we would like to make in the solitude of a café terrace ... Early in the morning ... She's sitting there, seems shivering. Grey dress, red scarf. Her eyes move. I try to meet them - small, vague black clouds which pass, without resting, by mine. She drinks her…
|
594 14 8
|
A.The poem of rational progression is dulling.Make the leap. Go beyond juxtaposition to collision.We like poetry that does double duty, triple duty, quadruple duty. We like poetry that mixes the grit, poetry that has the texture of complexity.Reason asserts an…
|
966 10 9
|
He looks outside, sees everything disappearing like crumbing cookies into what appears to be a giant mouth.
|
1043 12 7
|
The abundances of age/
are of commodities/
no known demographic values:
|