Sunday, January 05, 2014


The time to go home has been now.
                                   —John Ashbery

At the party the chuckles were
contagious; but the laughter
was infectious.  We thought
that was okay.  However,

an hour or so after we get
home, I’m told that I should
shut the bedroom window
whenever I laugh.  People

have happy dreams, I say.
Ok ok, he says.  My hand
is cramped into the
American Library’s

Anthology of American
Poetry, Twentieth
Century, Volume I.
Friday after

shopping around a bit,
Otto gave me a haircut. 
Then we met up
with Mr. Empty

(nicknamed so because
his bottle or drinking
glass always is) who
proceeded to buy us

a bunch of drinks. 
We drank fast at his
request and danced
for a couple of hours. 

Drunk, we kept
fielding requests for
smooches (we said ‘of
course’), and a very tall

older guy (not so much a
gentleman) basically
dance-humped us
for hours til we

piled into a cab and
immediately passed out.