105159
|
|
13062218
|
The end will film itself/
in charred, eviscerated bodies
|
96132
|
I used to compare her to a sunburnthe first of the summerit is always the worst oneexposed skinalmost hot to the touchturning warm and pinkthen raw and redit is a transition that is effortlessbut still you can feel it happeninga lot like loveyou can feel it all around…
|
1114127
|
In time, I will forgethow he said "smooshie" for "smoothie"and "eyebrowns" for "eyebrows,"how his upper lip dimpled when he laughedin that uproarious, wild toddler way.How he wheedled to be wrapped and rocked,after a bath, even at age five,his long calves uncovered by…
|
12891312
|
screw everything, youth is plinko
|
84898
|
A sense of plenty courses through
|
122487
|
For the first time in her life
She felt she understood
The smell of a man.
The smell of white tulips,
The taste of a persimmon
In her mouth.
She remembered how married she felt
To him, in that moment. How close
To the earth, and ancien
|
14021914
|
Co-polar order spectrum; strobe genre (the disco light of the 70s illumining and eclipsing fiction-non-fiction-non in one "article"); UTAH! a jump from forehead-down to standing fast, a cheer, for genre studies.
|
22533
|
Wounded with driven masonry nails
And medallions of swift nests clinging high
|
4711
|
Thou shalt not house
Unruly gerbils
Repeat, thou shalt house no unruly gerbil
Thou shalt further be required to oil all
Squeaky hamster cages in existence
Repair them if thou must
Do not let them turn to rust
Nor shalt they accumulate du
|
6722
|
Cats eat birds
Birds eat worms
Why not just cut to the chase
And have cats eat the worms?
Quit fooling around
We’ve got to go fix up
A new universe
Is what
|
11891211
|
a human hand/
looks sadly/
naked now
|
121577
|
yet fiction, despite contrary reports, from two ends of the American spectrum, does not mean lies, in my HUM
|
6343
|
The man who was fired
from a thousand jobs
A girl named
Calorie
Flashes of self-image
in shallow waters
I had no idea
what it meant
But now I see
it all ads up
It’s a self-portrait by
Vincent van Gopher
It’s a mole on the
for
|
17002822
|
The fluffed-up clouds, darkish in spots,/
are moving fast, opposite the wind/
where I stand and look. Equations//
could describe the multiplicities
|