and doesn’t Giacometti make you want to slip an Ingres girl a feel?
—James Schuyler
I’ve always had a thing for skinny.
And this has kept me busy; always
wondering how to get there. The
cloudy sea casts its spell; a lullaby
or diversion; a vacation of the mind.
But then there were the exceptions.
Like the kid from the video store who
reminded me of Buddha. I like the
pressure created by leaving the door
ajar, the melody it sings to the shush-
ing sea. I can’t remember how it
all went down, but it definitely went
down; in the apartment I turned a
closet into an office with a garden
view. Back when I used to move
a lot I’d occasionally get rid of
refrigerator magnets in fell swoops.
Toss the lot into the can along with
dated prints, like Toulouse-Latrec
or Escher’s impossible stairwell.
I got a waterbed, a gift from an
ex. It sprung a leak on a stubbled
skater-kid liked to do drag. He lit a
guilty smoke for each sogged towel
and then we learned how to patch it.
