February & my love is in another state
“so when i walk down the street, i hold hands
with the wind. there’s a chimney coughing
up ahead & a sky so honey, i could almost taste it.”
Posts Tagged "poem"
Gate A-4
“Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning
my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement:
“If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please
come to the gate immediately.”
Well—one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.”
Is This My Last Ferry Trip?
“Is this the last time I’ll admire the guys
in their neon-yellow slickers, guiding us
to our parking spots before we head up
two flights to the passenger deck,”
Saturdays
“Why do people always choose saturdays
to wig out
I mean the ones who scream leave me alone
i hate your guts”
Gotham Wanes
“The mask? Because we were never ugly
enough. Because our ugliness was epic.”
Vinegar
“Each week I bought a new bottle
of vinegar—which is delicious
slopped on hot white bread. Who
with a tongue hasn’t loved
some sweet slow rot.”
Housekeeping
“We mourn the broken things, chair legs
wrenched from their seats, chipped plates,
the threadbare clothes.”
Raising the Titanic
“I spent the winter my father died down in the basement,
under the calm surface of the floorboards, hundreds…”
The More Loving One
“Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.”
My Son the Man
“Suddenly his shoulders get a lot wider,
the way Houdini would expand his body
while people were putting him in chains. It seems”
Seeing the Eclipse in Maine
“It started about noon. On top of Mount Batte,
We were all exclaiming. Someone had a cardboard
And a pin, and we all cried out when the sun
Appeared in tiny form on the notebook cover.”
A Pity, We Were Such a Good Invention
“They amputated
Your thighs off my hips.
As far as I’m concerned
They are all surgeons. All of them.”
Love Song
by Dorothy Parker My own dear love, he is strong and bold And he cares not what comes after. His words ring sweet as a chime of gold, And his eyes are lit with laughter. He is jubilant as a flag unfurled— Oh, a girl, she’d not forget him. My own dear love, he is all my world,— And I…
Sometimes
“Sometimes, when the light strikes at odd angles
and pulls you back into childhood”
[all the time I pray to Buddha]
“All the time I pray to Buddha
I keep on
killing mosquitoes.”