1584 11 10
|
locking the door against dangerous//
human curiosity and forgetfulness.
|
300
|
move your lips as you read/
if you can’t read aloud
|
300
|
A dozen owls
at the bar,
impolite,
eating the
cheese and mice.
A dozen owls.
Eleven of them
on stools.
The big one
with his wings around two others.
Bragging,
obnoxious.
Ah what a fool!
Too big to
argue with.
|
94652
|
If I was a bum
I’d risk everything
For a drink or a smoke.
I would beg and curse and steal
If I was a bum.
If I was a bum
I would cuss out the Pope.
I would not vote for anyone
Because I would know truly
They’d be telling gross lies.
|
85721
|
The monsters in the sky burst with riotous laughter, their rumbling voices barking out commands, their cracked nails scratching on the screen, their knotted knuckles tap-taping on the window. Little girl, won't you come out to play? She clutches her floral bed sheets,…
|
10295
|
a million little
holes ...
|
3911
|
I saw the news today, O boy!
“Cows Bound for Slaughterhouse Make a Dash for Freedom.”
I told my punk rock band Frying Tumors about it,
And what do you think they said?
“Things are disturbed enough already
Without cows getting into the act.”
|
6266
|
move your lips as you read/
if you can’t read aloud//
unless it’s an annual report--
|
200
|
With the sudden thrust//
of April green, we can forget/
our drought continues.
|
95066
|
With the sudden thrust//
of April green, we can forget/
our drought continues.
|
142510
|
Our lips are barely touching It's a game And you want to play it, and I want to play it Because you like it, and because I like it Our lips can touch, just touch Our lips can touch, but they can't really touch Our lips can touch, just barely touch Our eyes must…
|
94171
|
The new poetry
comes in shining
metal boxes
covered in glass
so you can peer in.
|
70932
|
The mystery is in the barmaid's impersonal stare.
It's all there. Recognizable the bottles of Bass Ale
And Crème de Menthe. Glazed oranges piled in a bowl.
Two roses in a small clear glass of water.
A wide gold bracelet on her arm, halfway
|
53300
|
They left their great need behind
When they were taken out of the country.
They seem to live without thought of that blood.
They do not respond to anything that calls to it.
They seem shallow. They feed on image alone.
Blood does not shake the
|
1420
|
The torchlight flickers off the stone above,/
the ceiling of this ancient cave the scarred/
have not discovered yet. I write this,
|
