947 3 0
|
She burst
Into the glass shop
|
2300
|
Mob stole night from summer, winter from day in the dilation of chatter-nation.
|
110401
|
meanings figure into traffic streams reds fade, trickle down the long ‘V' another passing human ear; tall, tall buildings paper poised on horizon. situations gape in and out of seconds corners turn to disappearance, witness follows fingers…
|
64150
|
She reached down deep inside her world,
"your mobile home," her best friend Myra laughed, because
it held the hearth as well as fire; more than one woman could enjoy
or cry about within a lifetime.The shopping cart was full
with what she needed now and maybe once had…
|
103620
|
What the heck to believe in??
|
126220
|
Fridays always said it was time for golf,which left me wide, wide like the space between your teeth,on the stoop til you'd let me share your palm with your nine iron.I was a utility. Your gap toothed divot tool or a headcover that had your smile.Sometimes you'd gawk back,…
|
30700
|
The growing idealist collected
unicorns.
|
25500
|
so I ingrained
quite literally,
historical struggle into my blood.
|
2971
|
With the hill as steep as the nights were dark, I could usually count on a fair amount of stumbling and cursing before finding a spot that would not quickly send me back to the bottom and when, every night, the dog, bigger and blacker than any I…
|
16310
|
...they smiled their cautious pathetic poultry smiles and they stuck a needle in my arm and I cried...
|
1210
|
After the old man found it, the solitary
upright marker bearing his mother’s
mother’s name
|
100
|
We suffer no immediate threats or enticements.Life pushes our paper boat toward the slowlake's center and withdraws. We smile,comment on the sky--So blue! So large!while waving madly at the old shore (poor sots).We kick the soft envelope of our folded…
|
1320
|
We suffer no immediate threats or enticements.
|
99610
|
There was a man crying, walking his dog
and a woman drove by
on a flat tire
They brought coffee to the tables
in large glasses on white saucers
There’d be long silver spoons
with which to stir in strong
|
112731
|
A canister of unused laughter taken from the mouth of a baby not yet born
A splinter of wood from a cross, perfectly preserved in dark tea
taken from the belly of a dead Irishman
A milky vial of smog taken from the air of Los Angeles circa 1965
A
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