and venture capitalism , a medulla oblongata rhyming each mouth and eye to the arrogant grasping of hands , is anything but natural . here , the crush of one thing onto the other . a totalitarian wind blowing from the east
No - not the goddess of beauty, Venus from Gillette, Venus from Shocking Blue, Venus flattened into a jingle: “I’m your Venus, I’m the fire at your desire.”
Despite this midlife mustache, and this momentary smirk, and this signature laugh, and these less-than-perfect teeth which will never have the gleam of Broadway or the shine of Hollywood
Tell the refugee on the bench your father taught you to count by birds on the wires. Numbers used to mean who came home; now they mean which beds remain. He teaches me his word for rain: three vowels, one bruise.
She married the prince, and then we announced her death. The nuns guarded a casket of glass with a beautiful maiden appearing to sleep. The King came and wept. He did not repent, and he accepted the poisoned apple slices I offered him.
shades drawn, lights out, blanket beneath me, letting Keith Jarret’s Köln Concert enter me like a lover’s touch, orchestrating along grooves of pleasure
If a woman hadn’t been out walking her dog, they might never have found the body among the miner’s lettuce and jimson weed, the young nurse may have lain at the base of the creek invisible to the naked eye for months, years—
