4261816
|
|
130955
|
|
130967
|
The wind is wet today I can't tell you where sky meets sea only that it matters I can't explain why. I've triedCan't see the horizonbut I know that we have drawn itfingers tracing far pastthe edge of blind infinitywhere we sang stars to sleepand pinned our…
|
14842114
|
I don't want / to write about the body indulged, desires / denied, tortures invented, pleasures innate
|
13351616
|
To See Who's There Able these days to search through centuries, I click, scribble, cut and paste, skim, reject, record, resurrect a wet stone wall, the smell of burning peat. Bob's your uncle, Peggy's …
|
15552719
|
We are not alone, not as alone as we think.
|
5371610
|
The diagnosis? A lesion. Of
enthusiasm, Fitzgerald said.
|
13231915
|
“What does the future hold?”
|
10331410
|
My grandfather was ninety three. My mother was sixty three. I was thirty three. My daughter had just turned three. Our ages were all lined up like the beauty marks on Snow White in the Donald Barthelme version of the story.
|
134499
|
What if I said;
I never liked actually reading?
|
2071613
|
|
913148
|
|
87555
|
|
7221
|
|
87811
|
Remain in repose, a little longer.
|