2 Poems
The Best Part of Anything I am riding my bike when I see them. The breeze slides my dress strap off my shoulder and I am thinking of Richard and the babysitter and what I will make for dinner. There are two of them. Lesbians, that is. They are enormous. They go into the diner [...]
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Mother
Guy comes in about five before five. Says he's waitin on his Mom. Says, can I have one pear cider while I wait for my mom and do you think I should tell the hostess she's coming, so she can alert me when she's here, 'cause my phone's dead and I don't want her waitin on me [...]
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The Drunkard’s Hibernation
Begin in March, before the snowpack has fully melted, with the hard stuff. Always remember: "Hard before beer, hibernate without fear." When first emergent from your winter den, you can't do better than a warming shot of rum, or perhaps tequila, though you are then well advised to move on as soon as possible to mixed drinks, which [...]
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I Love a Good Twin Show or a False Solstice
in Leatherpuss, Texas. I drink the whiskey God recommended don’t swallow white pills. Did you ever see the lassie tracing her bribe down the front of our the jack-in-the-box? Our father dresses her in a clownsuit so we see our excess our pigpen our playpen our hairy premise our dark [...]
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Two Poems
Creation Myth “The stories concerning the origin of the word cocktail are nearly as many and varied as the mixtures themselves.” —Thomas Mario, Playboy Bartender’s Guide Forget the Southern sagas of Octelle, horses whose tails crooked to life with liquor, the Mexican yarn of Princess Coctel, and everything else you’ve heard. The first [...]
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Anthropological Factory
I see a photograph of your hands and grow irrational I loosen around life without you and that is okay and I excuse myself I tell a lot of people about the biology involved in finding other people about the comfort I take in an NPR article Do We Choose Our Friends Because They Share [...]
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everything I know about a cante jondo or the deep song of my father’s country
now and then a berceuse is caught between my incisors. in my neytal vein, i serenade duquende’s sepulchral howl. it has syllables like paper swans, it has a brimstone verse that stirs a controversy worthy of the most spanish red. you strip the winters blue skin off my lips in curls of chantilly lace. every [...]
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2 Poems
Wet Trash Who wouldn’t love us when we floated in motel-pool phosphorescence, lit up like bones the flesh got soggy on, dropped off. Dad makes the last bed, doffs his fedora full of feathers he picked up off the interstate. Positively teeming. He plays pool. I play a Rich Bitch sucking candies. I leaf through [...]
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Bight
At sea there are only lovers and their lack. Cracked stones, a rill of foam on reefs—always the hum of wanting, its sail-snap. In the old songs, there is a coming home, a looking across the waves’ thin-skimmed ridges, the sea conspiring with silt clouds. How, then, on the water— on the floating bar’s dull [...]
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2 Poems
self-Portrait, after dinner no coffee yet but I’ll call you on metal stairs up from beechwood trees & I’m a pigeon in the rafters what do you mean a pigeon I mean strings whine into tall shadows wake up full, my dress unbuttons when laughs climb out & we should’ve asked for a carafe, the [...]
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Bar Folk
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