Stories tagged poetry

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

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

Guai a sognare

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eyes, slow-waking, broach the young day's sun

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…

Hitting the Wall

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I tried to talk, but only / whispers slithered out.

the same, without wings

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and he'll be dead within a week but i'll still be ordering a large black coffee and smoking upwind

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…

Later, Now

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What dissolves later is all front, that / creeping shell, that anybody’s house.

Self Alaska

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Why was it so difficult to move / toward anything?

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

Epithalamion

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They talk but they don’t really / talk

Son of Uncle Sam

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He’s hooked on the pinball / excitements of adolescence

Augustinian Prayer Sonnet

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He kissed her tits and thought of art