Oh, but it is dirty! – this little filling station, oil-soaked, oil-permeated to a disturbing, over-all black translucency. Be careful with that match! Father wears a dirty, oil-soaked monkey suit that cuts him under the arms, and several quick and saucy and greasy sons assist him (it’s a family filling station), all quite thoroughly dirty. [...]
Tag Archives: poems
The Object Entries 3
Saturday, June 12, 2010
I HAVE A CRAZY Crazy love of things. I like pliars, and scisssors. I love cups rings and bowls – not to speak, of course, of hats. I love all thing, not just the grandest, also the infinite ly small- thimbles, spurs, plates, and flower vases. Oh yes. Amo las cosas loca, locamente. Ode To [...]
You, bastard!
Friday, June 11, 2010
The man bent over his guitar, A shearsman of sorts. The day was green. They said, ‘You have a blue guitar, You cannot play things as they are.’ The man replied, ‘Things as they are Are changed upon the blue guitar.’ And they said then, ‘But play, you must, A tune beyond us, yet ourselves, [...]
The Other Woman
Thursday, June 3, 2010
We use this book to prop up a light at the window display, not because it is not good, but because it has the potential to look salacious. Of course it is for sale. Ah, Love, you smell of petroleum and overwork with grease on your fingernails, paint in your hair there is a pained [...]
The Free and The Grounded
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
To the Oak Tree If I love you – I never behave like a climbing trumpet vine Using your high branches to show off; If I love you – I never mimic infatuated little birds Repeating monotonous songs into the shadows, Nor do I look at all like wellspring Sending out its cooling consolation all [...]
