I think my property keeps me from living on the street.
—Alice Notley
That sailboat is a bit fuzzy without glasses
but it has a little red in it. And cuts quite a swath
on a lovely day like today.
It’s a matter of breathing
and continuing to breathe
and eating someplace you haven’t eaten before.
And riding in a sailboat. Having catfish & chips (Cajun)
writing 5 poems in 24 hours but cheating
writing cut-ups while he’s partying all night
cutting up the carpet and the cat’s litter box
cutting up the little plants by the window
(watching the two turtledoves)
thinking violently...
PoetryCubicles
...repeating words and phrases
“when I was on the fence I was”
about sex and government censors
(government scissors)
somehow relieved (really stupid, isn’t it?)
with Steven
a new object of his affection.
How romantic I’ve made it out to be.
Walking up to the poet full of sweet potatoes,
black-eyed peas and fried catfish
and pulling the house right out from his pants.
