Stories tagged poem

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte

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A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left of the painting, while time is suspended and light remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll and children run or sit or stand beside their par

Beside Dripping Glaciers

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We slept beside dripping glaciers people like us We were never meant to be housed contained, kept, petted, cleaned We could only be gutted You used us one time and threw us out people like us We sprouted the wings of desire by watchi

maybe just a little too sensitive

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"do you know what your problem is when it comes to girls?" she must mean other than the fact that they're all completely insane. or at least all the ones i've dated.

Renoir: Le Moulin de la Galette

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Crowded into the heart are impressions past These are not recognized in the available light of the present. So they sit in the dappled shade drinking, the clear glass partially filled with various and red liquid. Hat tilted back. Black top hat S

The Colors of My Life

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Three Poems on Surya Getting MarriedWho would have thoughtI would live to seePriya in pink?Priya in pink and bluesalwar kameezbangles on her armstoned from carryingthe sousaphoneand frequent tripsto the gym.Priya sharing smilesand being fabulous.Anand in red and…

Fallen

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a humming fluorescent martyr saving scratch off souls seated at the right hand of a sputtering neon star

Andalusia

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Andalusia I. partners in sunset the hawk and I in ballet ..............................he:..........the small flame in the wind ..............................I:............the last tremor of grace the…

Suicide Watch

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It's good to be home. It's good to be home. It's very good to be home

Par Delicatesse

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I know what he meant. I've been in the 3 A.M. cream cheese. I've known the hole in the bagel.

The Forefinger of Lenin

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Who puts Vaseline on the forefinger of Lenin? I want to know

Summer Is An Itch

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Underwater your eyes collapseand your feet touch decayed leavesand soft sand at the lake's bottom, the texture of tenderized flesh,maybe an intestineYou spring to the surface tofind your skull met by waterflies, and their limbstweak your peaceOn the shore your…

Self Alaska

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Why was it so difficult to move / toward anything?

Dungeon

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why were ghosts in wry mirrors feeding on hope?

Angel 1508

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When bees die they die with their wings straight out They die of natural causes and their tiny bodies are bent as though landing on a flower Their wings seem too big for them and they lie scattered about the floor, tilted in dead p

Theorizing Salsa

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The beer had a divine odor