"Disco nap" will be the inherited word-of-the-day...
274. february 3, 2011
"Disco nap" will be the inherited word-of-the-day...
First wake to weep at the prospect of being abandoned
hours before the conference opens, no, I'll figure this
out for myself, I'm old enough. A kind livery driver
with hazards saves my horrid morning. Five hours
asleep then five hours on my feet. These starbursts
and boots, Wesleyan press is giving out moustaches,
across from the National Arts Council, Salamander and who's name
from that stadium show should I mention? No smarty
phone signal down in the bookfair labyrinth.
How will we live tweet the women's literary revolution
-ary conversation? Black ocean publishing must be
in the farthest cave from here.
.
(VIDA and the men who love us, reading/dance party, Black Cat)
I'm the only one who knows what Kazim Ali (Mike, check!) is up to,
it probably sounds like I'm heckling in silver shoes.
Laughing as I recognize my former-former mentor's
incantatory tones, eyes shut while he ends his amazing
set, "I'm the only male hair poet, and that title
was bestowed upon me by Marie Howe."
You can't argue with writers in martinis.
Mini leather jackets bluntly tell me that some green
with your coffee in the morning is just plain civilized.
What have I been so worried about? Lint on too much black.
My cabby tells me I'm gorgeous and don't know it,
he has no idea how tired I am.
"Hate to write" by Pallala. cardboard trash paint. hate to w(h)rite.
week40: 1, 2, 3
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD (crazy behind on archives. 'pologies poetesss.tumblr readers)
(perhaps to be cont'd)
"Disco nap" will be the inherited word-of-the-day...
First wake to weep at the prospect of being abandoned
hours before the conference opens, no, I'll figure this
out for myself, I'm old enough. A kind livery driver
with hazards saves my horrid morning. Five hours
asleep then five hours on my feet. These starbursts
and boots, Wesleyan press is giving out moustaches,
across from the National Arts Council, Salamander and who's name
from that stadium show should I mention? No smarty
phone signal down in the bookfair labyrinth.
How will we live tweet the women's literary revolution
-ary conversation? Black ocean publishing must be
in the farthest cave from here.
.
(VIDA and the men who love us, reading/dance party, Black Cat)
I'm the only one who knows what Kazim Ali (Mike, check!) is up to,
it probably sounds like I'm heckling in silver shoes.
Laughing as I recognize my former-former mentor's
incantatory tones, eyes shut while he ends his amazing
set, "I'm the only male hair poet, and that title
was bestowed upon me by Marie Howe."
You can't argue with writers in martinis.
Mini leather jackets bluntly tell me that some green
with your coffee in the morning is just plain civilized.
What have I been so worried about? Lint on too much black.
My cabby tells me I'm gorgeous and don't know it,
he has no idea how tired I am.
"Hate to write" by Pallala. cardboard trash paint. hate to w(h)rite.
week40: 1, 2, 3
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
http://poetesss.tumblr.com/PAD (crazy behind on archives. 'pologies poetesss.tumblr readers)
(perhaps to be cont'd)