Gadi.

he walked like dead men walk. when fingers move, mouths yawn open, their red fissure breaking bare. sometimes, the sounds of scrambling bodies seemed like naked sticks across dust and ...

plowing through the night i’ve found another song i’d never listen to, another eye i’d never open. somewhere, the night clasps down on fires, and glowing orange fibers dance across ...

So I got this place I want to go to, you know? Some wonderful place. In Bavaria someplace, just living in a little hut by a river, and the whole ...

Part 1 1 There’s a misnomer in the midst. She traces the lines in a book; a cold breeze punches in from the open window as flecks of ice drift ...

Hey Suze! I like it! It has a lot of you in it. It's modern, as someone above me said, which kind of makes it somewhat unique, somewhat. Line by ...

Tell you the truth, I really love your style but I felt like this poem rambled... just about everywhere. Sometimes you would say something about a crank boyfriend, then something ...

So let's see... It's quite an intriguing poem. I like the short lines--very potent. It's also quite a short poem, which I think serves it quite well. I have a ...

tell me the truth tell me the truth: nothing but it; nothing but it please, and i dare you— i double-dare you—to tell me the truth, and nothing but: nothing. ...

ANCIENTS: The Odyssey = minor death. MODERN/ANCIENT: Great Expectations. Every time I see those two words next to a picture of Barack Obama on a magazine cover I want to ...

Another Snowfall The world burrows its arms in my flesh and another snowfall makes its home— in the deepest whites of my eyes they mesh, the ice and the glass, ...

So I edited it a little... The Ash of Sylvia Plath “Poetry is just the evidence of life,” Leonard Cohen once said. “If your life is burning well, poetry is ...

NY is still the number one U.S. city on here, thank goodness. Though I'm not sure if I really live in NY, because the computer might think that I live ...

I've never had this much trouble with paper writing before. My English teacher asked us the other day to write a research paper about a particular author. It should relate ...

My Jesus Novel Chapter One The First Time We Met It’s February 1993 and I’m trying to write a poem on the subway when an old, bearded homeless man parks ...

Amazing. Sam, I am so proud of you! This moved me so much.