Stories tagged poetry

It's Like That

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Like the term rogue cop

After

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The next week, she sends a small white box in the mail / with tissue paper, a ceramic mold the color of bleached bone—

Gabrielle in Arrears

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You should be calling 911

living in the flames, again

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I was meant to stroke, touch, handle the union of love, the egg, the ova with desire. Hurling the self forward so you could handle the semi-virgin loaf with your four flowered gloves, your soft kid gloves, and deprive the night, thank God, of its natural

an exhibit of nature

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I’ll widen a wing out of myself, if you want. I’ll wash out the more volatile salts of man’s innate salt. I’ll awaken the milky sense the night sky’s made of, under Van Gogh’s heaven. Use the same salt wind sailing over all origin, the rim of the cup an

11:11AM Eastern Standard Time:

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"Make a wish," she whispered.

Block Island Sound

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So I’ll wait for her to clear all burden from her head and feel the ocean move us. Stand up, walk over to me and kiss me as we glided through open water.

The First Snowfall

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the smell of the small cedar chips burning in the fireplace

the plural river

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Like large drops of rain on the active lap of earth, I heard myself falling all around the vacant spaces where you had once been. Emptying myself with dissolution, trying to alter the essence, to begin again where we had left off, as if to wind string b

The Greatest Sweep in the History of Sweeping

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you misunderstand karma

002

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there are nights when you're all alonein the darkwhere the only lightis the glow of the computer screenand words can't seem the scratchthe surface of your skulland bit by bitthe sentences, phrases, and lettersattached to your synapsesdrownin your subconscious

the wine kept us warm

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In the hunt for one woman in whom the lightning fell off the purple light, dazzling all who were around her – during that hunt, the night you sang may have lived in her all these years. May live in her still, her mouth shaped like the letter triangular,

Lilith: The Unforgiven

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I saw life and beauty choking

Polyester Purgatory

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They line the bar beside me. Talking about themselves and estranged children, while rubbing necks and wrists, searching for the pulse.

the spirit inside my clothing

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I’ll tell you what happens after stories like this get loose. A small swift tongue darts out of the head lewdly, its promiscuous gender common in deception to its lovely buttocks, its brightness wild and fierce after its first talkative babbling. Th