Friday, April 25, 2008
Blue oxford shirt
Gray sweater with holes, leaf debris stuck to piling
(Al circa 1994, before Corporate America had its way with him.)
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
It’s a free-for-all, y’all, every Saturday night,
But everybody treats everybody they way they should,
In my neighborhood."
Blasting out of Libation’s third floor window.
UPDATE: I have successfully complained, and therein deprived myself of my righteousness.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
The nanny’s boyfriend was in a car accident when I was a child. He worked in the kitchen of the country inn at the end of Springvale. Our road was at the top of a blind hill and a co-worker was dropping him off and they got rear-ended. The next day, at the bus stop, we found a single shoe, a loafer, singed at its bottom.
In the mornings now, up before Rivington is swept and bleached, the street is strewn with puke and beer bottles and the air seems dead, the void left by a party’s departed energy, and some days I’ll see a discarded shoe and feel like a child, confused by the portents, the distant, unknown conflagrations.
Friday, April 11, 2008
A new limb? An exotic flower that blooms only once in a generation?