No, not the TV program we binge-watched last January. Not knocking it, but I’m talking about that lack of care that’s lovely. Not reckless, not lazy, just an hour or more of contented wonder. More at https://onpossibilitypoems.blogspot.com/.
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Author: Best Poetry Online
When I was very young, say, around seven or eight, I went in for cowboy flicks. I usually went with a pack of boys my own age; we paid our dime and watched a double feature. The National Anthem was played and sometimes there’d be a yo-yo contest. There were usually one or two cartoons,…
Everyone here is green, young and nascent, not yet having earned their true darkness. Never mind; it will come soon enough. Their hearts will be betrayed, minds argued with, and the solid truth of their twenties and teens will settle into wavy ideas and more open conclusions later in life. They will rise up the…
Under the aegis of Joey Aiuppa (Doves Aiuppa, Joey The Doves Aiuppa, Mourning Doves Aiuppa) No one could be killed (whacked) in Elmwood Park So you had to get a scumbag (mope, numb-nuts) Across Harlem Avenue in order to whack him. You couldn’t even bring…
Anna-Eva Bergman N°33 1947 ‘Ensomhet’ huset (gyllne snitt), “Solitude: the house (gold part)” Gestern, hab’ich zu viel Weißwein getrunken… It’s always so difficult to know where to begin. The sound of the phrase Gestern, hab’ich… makes me hear Longtemps, je me suis couché de bonne heure. It reminds me, too, of how very dissimilar things,…
She is the screamer who I imagine standing at the open mouth of a bridge, figure trying to leave the rest of the world and all she knows behind her, the sign post of familiarity dimming in the distance I imagine the smell of family life and common voices fading quickly She is the elongated…
__________________________________________________________ On Cooking Captain Cook If you ask the blonde-haired concierge at the Grand Kīhei, he will tell you that we ate him whole, strung his white meat on a stick, filled his…
