What kind of poem do you like the least?
The kind with yeast.
Rising in a half morning baked
epiphany of meaningly thoughts.
What kind of poem do you like the most?
The kind on toast.
Held fast with a fat veneer
of cream cheese.
What kind of poem does your family like?
The poem that’s caught
In the beak of a shrike
About to be [...]
Entries Tagged as ‘Uncategorized’
November 26, 2009
Occasional poem
November 24, 2009
tremendous shout-out
It was obvious, though, from the writings of the cognoscenti, that a true sampling of poutine would require a trip to Montreal. That is how I came to be eating so much of it with Emily Birnbaum and her boyfriend, James Braithwaite, and their friend Richard Parks, and a revolving selection of special-guest eaters.
from “Calvin [...]
November 21, 2009
drunkenschrift
Language porridge,
alcohol cauldron,
dehydration history,
55-year-old woman at literary magazine party, lips pursed, thoughtful and sublime
drunk blogger abroad, brimful of self-loathing, each tooth a piece of video art broadcasting a private American history back to the motherteeth
British man wearing a t-shirt mocking class struggle, a Scottish novelist too politicized to appeal to an American novelist, an upper-class [...]
November 20, 2009
D’O(r)kra
I can’t sleep. It’s 4:20 a.m. I have to perform public speaking tomorrow at 10 a.m. I am fucked. It’s OK. I could use a hoagie. I’d like a dairy product. I am whingeing. Peace out, guys
(via Mark Newgarden)
November 19, 2009
anti-blogging, drunk, nobody knows what time
Hello America
I am drunk, I didn’t mean to get drunk, I wanted to hydrate and acclimate, but then I met so many wonderful people [eats an entire tube of lipstick, belches, kisses a real pig, literally, at a farm] that I ended up drinking nineteen Belgian and Dutch beers (Heineken is somehow a masterpiece here [...]
November 12, 2009
Brooklyn Bacteria
Extreme close up of a radio dial. A rubber dildo shifts across the top of the dial, sliding it on. A burst of static and then a laconic male voice:
Neighborhoods are blossoming and bro-ing down. Ostalgie is blooming in Bushwick. Pause for a second before you say “Bushwick” again, because I don’t think you know [...]
November 11, 2009
The Story of the Saucer
Kid gets given a saucer.
Thrift-store porcelain, divorced from its cup.
Kid’s happy about the saucer.
Sees someone go by, saucerless.
Thinks, “He’s not the sort to have a saucer, is he? Like I am.”