"what is it he's holding...it looked like a bottle of brute cologne."- Jimmy Fallon
"everything's ok if you end it with gIrl"- Wendy Williams
"we are merchants of good humor, if you will"
-CIRCUS
Monday, February 21, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
There's no time for love, Charlie Brown: first reply
The door handle signs I collected
one night, off the sidewalks and in between the bushes
of South Boston (they are bright blue with large white lettering)
read VOTE TODAY! I will not vote today.
The outcome, unlikely, should there be one,
is no longer the point. The importance
of things has dwindled down
into the chewability of an english muffin,
and who should stock the freeer? And what should be stocked,
and all that should be tossed away.
It is with joy that I voice my opinion
of the long rehearsed practice of the english mud-muffin,
the long forgotten records. It is with great and undue indignatio
that I respond to my mother's querie of where the jelly is,
or may have been, or certainly had once been.
I scoff (proudly) at the insinuation of jelly,
for I have seen no jelly slabbed or spread
or eaten here. For,
I have been her a long time.
Lately I have ducked my ears beneath the water,
which runs cold before I remember to remember
it will run cold, in the claw foot tub (my newest lover).
This old woman once scrubbed the sand from me,
and what is stranger,
my brother and I once shared a bath,
before the proper experiments had all
been conducted and, of course, he'd found me
hopeless. And just yesterday it seems, I saw him po out
in California. CAN YOU BELIEVE we strolled along
Venice Beach, all four of us-- of course,
he and my father walked slightly ahead, but
there were the skateboarders, the obscene couples,
attempting to reach each others' brains with their tongues,
and perhaps,
he found them brave. As the California salesmen tried
and tried to sell us pot, and as I could safely say,
you live here, Erik, and I do not.
And safely as nothing could be done about that,
and safely as nothing could be said about the state of CALIFORNIA
or of all things, or of bath tubs. Yes, as safely as that
I could fly through the air and past oceans and towns, away from you.
I could not pay attention to any of it. As safely as that,
I could return.
one night, off the sidewalks and in between the bushes
of South Boston (they are bright blue with large white lettering)
read VOTE TODAY! I will not vote today.
The outcome, unlikely, should there be one,
is no longer the point. The importance
of things has dwindled down
into the chewability of an english muffin,
and who should stock the freeer? And what should be stocked,
and all that should be tossed away.
It is with joy that I voice my opinion
of the long rehearsed practice of the english mud-muffin,
the long forgotten records. It is with great and undue indignatio
that I respond to my mother's querie of where the jelly is,
or may have been, or certainly had once been.
I scoff (proudly) at the insinuation of jelly,
for I have seen no jelly slabbed or spread
or eaten here. For,
I have been her a long time.
Lately I have ducked my ears beneath the water,
which runs cold before I remember to remember
it will run cold, in the claw foot tub (my newest lover).
This old woman once scrubbed the sand from me,
and what is stranger,
my brother and I once shared a bath,
before the proper experiments had all
been conducted and, of course, he'd found me
hopeless. And just yesterday it seems, I saw him po out
in California. CAN YOU BELIEVE we strolled along
Venice Beach, all four of us-- of course,
he and my father walked slightly ahead, but
there were the skateboarders, the obscene couples,
attempting to reach each others' brains with their tongues,
and perhaps,
he found them brave. As the California salesmen tried
and tried to sell us pot, and as I could safely say,
you live here, Erik, and I do not.
And safely as nothing could be done about that,
and safely as nothing could be said about the state of CALIFORNIA
or of all things, or of bath tubs. Yes, as safely as that
I could fly through the air and past oceans and towns, away from you.
I could not pay attention to any of it. As safely as that,
I could return.
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