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Новости о книгах: Новинки, рейтинги, события. Barnes & Noble выводит свою «читалку на европейский рынок. Август 30 Posted by admin Новинки. Никитский бульвар на два дня отдадут издателям и читателям. Август 30 Posted by admin Рынок. Фаланстер. Логотип магазина Книжный магазин «Фаланстер проведет ярмарку на Никитском бульваре в Москве. Она получила название «Бульвар читателей и будет проходить в рамках празднования. Read more. Около 200 литераторов будут участвовать в Московской книжной ярмарке. Август 28...
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bookonblog24.blogspot.com
Stronger Than Dirt Dennis Mahagin
First, the near. Foreground, where a dead deer. Nuzzles blood from dust cloud,. Frozen star burst over cyclone. Fence, with arrow-shaped. Razors on bales reflecting. Lemony light, a glint, or hint. Of pig tails cork screwing. And a little farther. Off, protracted by easel, a flesh-colored. Nash Rambler car, with windshield wiper. Hung all wrong, all. As a broken limb accusing antenna. Of a song about buggery,. A motel room 48 ajar,. And just inside, the painter hides. A bearded bag man. In it anymore;.
bookonblog39.blogspot.com
Audition for hell: A Collection of Poems by A.J. Huffman
Sitting alone in my underwear. In the middle of a highway. In the rain, I pray. For a pair of merciful headlights. To bless me with their strength. There is only darkness staring back at me. Placid and passive,. It has no interest in the pathetic theatrics. Of this scene I have chosen. For my dance to die. It waits for me to die. But it seems I failed at that scene too. And now I can only swallow. Drop after drop of serial sky tears. For my sins that stay. Too pure to punish. On my knees in a solarium.
bookonblog40.blogspot.com
Staying awake with Shiva Jagannath Rao Adukuri
The rain beat the lake, in rising shrapnel. A girl hid there under the rain shelter. In the eye –shadows of the afraid lover. He that was afraid of the lens’ blinding light. The sun still refused to be coaxed out. Consequently there were no copies of beauty. The rain was now furiously beating the road. All through the evening the wind howled. And there was nothing that we could do. In this sort of rain nothing really happens. She did not die much. With a ten year old mind she could not have died much.
bookonblog41.blogspot.com
A Bird's Life Stan Galloway
You call out “Ever! Like your all-black cousin. Tuxedoed for the formality of life. Respected because of your dress. You differ nothing from the thieving. Death-eating character of crows,. But the beauty of your vest belies. How long will we be fooled by. Sin in pretty wrappings? And you answer “Ever! I saw my chance. And flew the coop. Away from all those chickens. I’d been cooped up with. For far too long. Whatever led me into. I’ll never know. It’s a wonder. We weren’t all killed. In that big floating.
bookonblog42.blogspot.com
The Men of Autumn, Women of the Fall Leah Angstman
The Men of Autumn, Women of the Fall. I am obsessed with Civil War reenactments,. The heart they throw into each bloodless war. On each bloodless day beginning promptly at nine. Fear never plagues their history as. How accustomed they are to cannon. Roaring overhead every twenty minutes. On the dot from the top of every hour. Lovely unhardened women with soft hands,. Men with dirt carefully applied. Each in the same place on. The breast pocket of a shiny, buttoned jacket. There are no brothers here.
bookonblog43.blogspot.com
Crazy PoemsMarc Carver
I noticed the girl. Serving at the sushi. Come fast food place. She ran around the place. Up and down the stairs. Only later, I thought to tell her. That you can run around your whole life. But they will still put you in a box next to someone. Who has done nothing his whole life. She had tight trousers on. And I could not take my eyes off her ass. Every time she ran past me. As I sat and eat my noodles. I looked at that ass. Like a ripe green apple. And covered with a cream. Of a sheen of black latex.
bookonblog44.blogspot.com
Less Than A Man Linda M. Crate
Less Than A Man. Linda M. Crate. The world is vast,. And I am but one gaunt. Footstep in it’s. Abdomen; always stretching. Men say it should be women. Some women agree,. But I don’t think anyone should be. Devoured beneath the assemblage. Of rights; why can’t we all live. Men are born of women yet so. Quickly rise against them. Terrified of their voices,. Misogyny becomes the normality. Some can accept —. I wonder why so many succumb to things. They shouldn’t allow;. Here knowing everything is wrong,.
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