1312 15 12
|
and dreamed itself infinite.
|
220
|
Our dossiers grow taller, more robust
|
116786
|
Our afterlife depends upon//
what interesting shape
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22965
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Now every time I hear that John Bouttesong, I think of leaving youstanding in the station whileoutside my window abald eagle's nest in a deadcypress tree didn't amaze mea tenth as much as your tenacitybut it's strength reminded meof you so with cloudy eyes I had to…
|
2200
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the failures of human flesh
|
44043
|
the failure of human flesh
|
86153
|
accidental ground/
for index-fingered figures
|
1488129
|
Every Sunday I ask her the same question.
Mami tu sabes quien soy yo?
|
12363
|
You never folded the covers back,
Never dipped your precious nose inside
To wonder what you were sending
|
11861311
|
It’s been a series of bad clams
|
109232
|
Scientists have discovered what I already did once on dope
way back in the Sixties.
There are so many other earths out there
that they are almost infinite.
Now in our other lives we have to
shuttle from planet to planet
reading our poems. And o
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56076
|
|
35422
|
|
11023
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after she's spat you out,
snickering
|
85453
|
His wife leans her head against a beam with her eyes closed
while he reads out loud.
Her mouth shut tightly, almost twisted shut. She's so weary.
She raises her collar and sinks further into her neck.
When he shouts, or explodes — nothing. Not
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