1052 3 1
|
The heart of those stars is a dab of yellow light. The darkness of the blue night appearing so deep because of the downward strokes of the actual sky interspersed with a violet that is almost black above the truly black silhouettes of the city buildings
|
103621
|
So you printed your resume on this coffee cup - that’s something
- I wanted you guys to think about me every morning - while you were getting your coffee
|
95821
|
|
720
|
|
94620
|
Finally he painted his own chair, maybe because no one would sit for him anymore (after he cut off a piece of his own ear.) The chair centered and framed so that one leg of it reached down to the bottom of the painting, seeming to be skewed a little, ou
|
18742
|
Because it is always somewhere that might as well be here --These clock's hands seeking outward Their precise destination: Toward.A gyro wobbling on its uneven top.Call it whenever -- just don't ask it to stop It's obscene wobbling. Ask the sun To list…
|
133373
|
|
126932
|
There’s no sky like that, with twisting clouds shot up into by cypress trees that are so like dark green flames, leaping out of the earth as if a dark green oily pool were on fire underground, and this was all that could escape, was its essence.
And a
|
83212
|
I sulk across the room to feed you,hold your hand, tell you everything will be fine. It is the right time of night,the light from the street falls onto the chairat the perfect angle. I look at you, gray, shimmering, persnickety. Don't move, thisis just the dust, helping me…
|
41574
|
The late Canadian summer,
it washes away false intentions
and it tells the truth
amid few distractions
|
110400
|
Her feet are raised upon an embroidered green pillow and she sits naked in a blue velvet chair. Red earrings dangling from her ears, while a red monkey sits at her feet with one leg extended.
She is exotic. A powder blue on her lips and at her navel,
|
2801211
|
Three times, Dad, you died on the table...
|
1400
|
Tack up the ribbons,
the banners with tape.
Set the table
with tablecloth,
bright cups and plates.
Tell Grandma
it’s time
to bring in the cake.
|
4000
|
Heavy breath, Spandex, Nike— pass me in your labors; You nod and smile; Perspiration— I almost feel your clammy hands; Your toes touch mine, hot and…
|
1180
|
a motion of grief that finds its form
|
