722 0 0
|
She was Clementine Cropper and didn't you know
She's the one you remember when there's talk of the blow.
|
86500
|
lying back on inviolable sheets, your breasts spread apart like a child’s open hands
you’d look up at me and smile
|
5000
|
Tattooing over your confusion by assuming you decorating the most painful acres of your flesh impresses anyone who has invested just as much money in the effort.
|
5331
|
it didn't move, blinked in bird-delirium when i spoke. one eye closed, then the other...
|
100
|
|
91100
|
Lyrics, rap, spoken word, poetryActivating this and thatCorner of my mind, flippingSwitches, turning onLights, opening windowsPushing stale air from a parking garage.An intimation, or implicationOf fresh air comingBehind, chasing oldDead things ahead of it.The way the…
|
1130
|
|
40900
|
Not a lovely view
As lovely as it is
|
78600
|
A gurgle of sugar on bark-splotch or blips. A mess: blueprints, radar, or wrench. Lips swell neon blood. So much spit, the lunar tremors. Manipulated, blur flutter flicks. To lungs: choke on scraps of metal, lumber, nuclear. Stir the embers. She's a bone bath for…
|
78321
|
I'll tell you what, Rick,
ten-thousand bucks?
[But] let Detroit go
bankrupt. I'm running
for office for Pete's sake,
|
9200
|
One hand on my heart, one over my lips, "Talk to me now," she whispered. Joined at the hips. I did and I did--in warm sweetness we slid. I said some things I don't know what, succumbing to that goose-pimpled jack-hammering butt. And I want to laugh but oh no, no, no,…
|
83897
|
It's not that there's nothing new, it's all new. That blue color is not the one you remember, but the one you are experiencing, and at the same time, you bring everything you are, crushing into dust, with you. Green…
|
140105
|
If there was a market for my skin
|
12483
|
Outside a cafe in Paris a discarded bicycle leans against a street lamp. Years ago a man cycling home from work stopped for a coffee and there, by chance, met the love of his life.Under gray skies, the awning dripped a single wet chill down my collar. We had…
|
9400
|
He lies like a dead deer across the hood of his bed.
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