455 15 13
|
|
4931712
|
Some nights now I sit at my window
|
3231511
|
When the compost thaws the past oozes out into the present....
|
3491610
|
My first winter in Massachusetts feels medieval: cold, dark, and endless.
|
3892010
|
A sardonic moon/
surveys our plight and cackles.
|
3931710
|
I hate turnstiles and revolving doors
|
80655
|
|
3041011
|
"What's it like?"
Like everything else. We all do it, so how bad could it be?
|
365128
|
My name's Barbara and don't call me Barbie if you want to be my friend.
|
31898
|
I used to be so certain
about right and wrong.
About choices and their consequences.
About heaven and hell
and how there was
no room in between
no space in between
no point in between
(take that point how you will)
|
436127
|
a few Hershey's Kisses tucked in with the note
|
48298
|
Walking down an unfamiliar street, / I heard a sudden caw of crows, / some thunder afar, strums of a lute— / a streetcar came flying along.
|
33397
|
As ghosts, they became lovers. Rodion would strum the Underwood keys like a balalaika. Lizaveta would sing.
|
308148
|
Sometimes we hurt ourselves, we scratch ourselves, we bleed — for a simple joy... All I wanted to do was to find the poplar again — the tree of my young arms, of my budding breasts. My fingers used to circle around its bold and vigorous waist, but in the…
|
36688
|
He bought his zillion-dollar megaphone,
|
180117
|
Shhhh, my husband is trying to write...
|
49187
|
a fat crow rapturously caws over its good fortune...
not a morsel left on the street,
not even a bloodstain
|
40777
|
She rubs her head into mine...
|
39786
|
The cicadas struck their soundsTheir ribs made a clicking drumThe sound was formed over buckling ribsvibrations sounds like a maracas bangle beatingShe sat up in a lounge chair trying to sleepThe tiny ants she found tickling her armThey crawled from some hole…
|
29377
|
Gone are the bristles bristling.Embedded with memoriesof crevices that oncefought to hold the spinach or walnuts within.No more feeling the undulatingresponses as the velvety tonguewinces and curls asthe wine is scrapped away.Is it wine, as we stare, oris it blood.Ah, the…
|
32186
|
Four ships anchor
Far off shore
Chains slip
Beneath the swell.
|
16177
|
what-ta-hell, fuck this/he snorts brushing/
the dust from his shoulders
|
44634
|
...the room was filled
with a brightness
and a breeze,
making you think
you were up in
the clouds.
|
233137
|
|
27275
|
He plucks the feathers and winds thread to simulate an insect’s torso.
|
135116
|
Men and women, close and distant, angling for attention, or not. Glasses washed, stacked put in their place, cell phones on bar instead of cigarette packs.
|
275116
|
is this the end of civilization
is this what i've been thinking of
|
318106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
|
45485
|
Don't forget to fuck me. Blow me. Suck me. Don't forget to fuck me. [REPEAT 2X]
|
38496
|
A break from bleak world history and events...
|
