If people came in flavors, say, like ice cream bars, most of us would be chocolate, vanilla, almond, butterscotch, but Gil would be fruit flavored, like raspberry or apricot. I am dazzled by this.
The question is not how to do this. I’m old enough now to realize that I’m an expert at being there for my father in a way that no one else in my family has been for years.
It started at one of those political debates when Candidate B (senator from Arizona) said of Candidate A (congressman from Ohio), “Folks, my opponent is pretty much Hitler.”
It’s not that she didn’t feel safe--it’s that she didn’t feel anything at all. I’m asking now why she dreamed herself back to me from that very time and then made the dream so vivid that I remembered all the details
Nothing changed when you were named the State Amphibian.
You remained neotenic—neither diminishing nor becoming—
You remained neotenic—neither diminishing nor becoming—
the red on my cheeks
overpowered the powder.
The serious principal
abandoned any semblance
of craft when he pointed at me,
then pointed at the door.
overpowered the powder.
The serious principal
abandoned any semblance
of craft when he pointed at me,
then pointed at the door.
I couldn’t decide between
French bread and French fries,
sipping French roast
I made in my French press
French bread and French fries,
sipping French roast
I made in my French press
Rock ‘n’ roll is still our folk music
electrified ‘n’ all Priest’s robes
or white linen suits will do the job
filled with fresh flowers and brio
electrified ‘n’ all Priest’s robes
or white linen suits will do the job
filled with fresh flowers and brio
3.
Thomas Edison electrocutes the elephant
and the rest becomes history. Someone
somewhere gets contracted to direct a
Red Lobster commercial. Tens of thousands
of airplanes filled right now with compliant
mortgage borrowers.
Somewhere there’s an office
with a tired steel desk and a bored bureaucrat and not enough air conditioning. |
Turning your head, you assess your home. The carpet's filthy, the bed’s unmade, the toys scattered. When you look down, things get worse.
|
I've returned to that tiny beach town in Maine, 1985. Back then, a young girl had died in a small plane accident and we saw Stop Making Sense...
The town is one of those forgotten places that everyone has left, a single diner sitting in an empty parking lot with a flickering light the only sign of life in a part of the country that goes dark as soon as the sun sets.
Radishes
Rapunzel, you must let down your hair from bell tower, bell tower. |
she is all ears
while pacing the studio |
Laughter lingers on my doorstep —
morning daffodil-bright, apple blossoms drift
across the greening yard
morning daffodil-bright, apple blossoms drift
across the greening yard
I had promised a friend I would write a poem about fireflies for her and I had tried and tried, but the poem would not work.
I’d spent hours at Northgate Mall with my mom, agonizing over this pink-and-white striped Ralph Lauren bikini. When she’d dropped me off at my boyfriend’s house—I had just turned 15 and couldn’t yet drive—she’d reassured me, again, that it fit perfectly.
She’s taken anti-depressants to get her this far,
enough imitators of speed to wake. She’s ready to debate public policy or Yeats in the old way, for a pint. |
We won’t know each other’s identity crises.
Yours, 10 at night, mine 1 AM, rotating every three hours.
Yours, 10 at night, mine 1 AM, rotating every three hours.
Something bigger, bigger than a twig, surfaced. It was Willow De La Coste. She looked heavily pregnant, a big tummy, taut white skin. The sky above her was deep blue with some wisps of clouds.
I had a friend of mine
who lived in a Leinenkugel’s label
who lived in a Leinenkugel’s label
and every day he would wake up
to a lemon sun.
If people came in flavors, say, like ice cream bars, most of us would be chocolate, vanilla, almond, butterscotch, but Gil would be fruit flavored, like raspberry or apricot. I am dazzled by this.
The question is not how to do this. I’m old enough now to realize that I’m an expert at being there for my father in a way that no one else in my family has been for years.
It started at one of those political debates when Candidate B (senator from Arizona) said of Candidate A (congressman from Ohio), “Folks, my opponent is pretty much Hitler.”
It’s not that she didn’t feel safe--it’s that she didn’t feel anything at all. I’m asking now why she dreamed herself back to me from that very time and then made the dream so vivid that I remembered all the details
The balloon catches the master of ceremonies eye, and he heads our way pointing at Jill, thanking her for her bravery, attempting to rile the crowd in support. Jill makes her body as small as she can.
Even when they were sloshed, which was often, the majority acknowledged her as a kindred spirit, a companion of the night: “Our Lady of Rosas!” they chanted in her wake.
Nothing changed when you were named the State Amphibian.
You remained neotenic—neither diminishing nor becoming—
You remained neotenic—neither diminishing nor becoming—
the red on my cheeks
overpowered the powder.
The serious principal
abandoned any semblance
of craft when he pointed at me,
then pointed at the door.
overpowered the powder.
The serious principal
abandoned any semblance
of craft when he pointed at me,
then pointed at the door.
I couldn’t decide between
French bread and French fries,
sipping French roast
I made in my French press
French bread and French fries,
sipping French roast
I made in my French press
Rock ‘n’ roll is still our folk music
electrified ‘n’ all Priest’s robes
or white linen suits will do the job
filled with fresh flowers and brio
electrified ‘n’ all Priest’s robes
or white linen suits will do the job
filled with fresh flowers and brio
3.
Thomas Edison electrocutes the elephant
and the rest becomes history. Someone
somewhere gets contracted to direct a
Red Lobster commercial. Tens of thousands
of airplanes filled right now with compliant
mortgage borrowers.
Somewhere there’s an office
with a tired steel desk and a bored
bureaucrat and not enough air conditioning.
with a tired steel desk and a bored
bureaucrat and not enough air conditioning.
Turning your head, you assess your home. The carpet's filthy, the bed’s unmade, the toys scattered. When you look down, things get worse.
I've returned to that tiny beach town in Maine, 1985. Back then, a young girl had died in a small plane accident and we saw Stop Making Sense...
The town is one of those forgotten places that everyone has left, a single diner sitting in an empty parking lot with a flickering light the only sign of life in a part of the country that goes dark as soon as the sun sets.
Radishes
Rapunzel,
you must let down
your hair
from bell tower,
bell tower.
Rapunzel,
you must let down
your hair
from bell tower,
bell tower.
Laughter lingers on my doorstep —
morning daffodil-bright, apple blossoms drift
across the greening yard
morning daffodil-bright, apple blossoms drift
across the greening yard
I had promised a friend I would write a poem about fireflies for her and I had tried and tried, but the poem would not work.
I’d spent hours at Northgate Mall with my mom, agonizing over this pink-and-white striped Ralph Lauren bikini. When she’d dropped me off at my boyfriend’s house—I had just turned 15 and couldn’t yet drive—she’d reassured me, again, that it fit perfectly.
She’s taken anti-depressants to get her this far,
enough imitators of speed to wake.
She’s ready to debate public policy or Yeats
in the old way, for a pint.
enough imitators of speed to wake.
She’s ready to debate public policy or Yeats
in the old way, for a pint.
We won’t know each other’s identity crises.
Yours, 10 at night, mine 1 AM, rotating every three hours.
Yours, 10 at night, mine 1 AM, rotating every three hours.
Something bigger, bigger than a twig, surfaced. It was Willow De La Coste. She looked heavily pregnant, a big tummy, taut white skin. The sky above her was deep blue with some wisps of clouds.
I had a friend of mine
who lived in a Leinenkugel’s label
who lived in a Leinenkugel’s label
and every day he would wake up
to a lemon sun.