(February 1933, October 1935, December 1960, October 1967)
Vintage Vogue covers are retro and fantastic.
And now... poems! First three will be featured in Clockwise Cat, last one in Apt. Let me know what you think!
sleeping in socks
sleeping in my socks: a rare,
almost scientific occurrence
perhaps solely explainable by
my fierce concentration
upon this new, beautiful being
and complete disregard for
all things regular, shedding
my usual stoicism for
a perpetually foolish smile.
a debacle of the vernacular
i rather like the word fiasco.
you like the word fiasco? what word fiasco?
what do you mean? i like the word fiasco!
a word fiasco? like a verbal disaster?
a debacle of the vernacular? a
distressing situation involving the english language?
what kind of person would think to enjoy a
well, i suppose this is a language calamity, and i am quite enjoying myself.
jesus, you take everything so literally. that's the problem with you poets.
we let fly with formulas and theorems
slurring the ancient tongues of euclid and
pythagoras into a heady shout of battle.
our arrows are taut with number lines,
compasses drawn, protractor blades flashing.
cartesian planes swoop overhead,
overseeing the warfare in calculated silence
as we count the dead in imaginary numbers.
san luis obispo
it felt like nowhere at first step, but the
sun worked quickly... melted our car stiff
bones into sparkling new structures
fizzy with the feeling of a new town.
the light came in colors and shapes
that might have been invented for us
in a little well of west coast magic,
the soft bronze blobs on squashy
bright buildings, velvet grey beams
along each pacific cobblestone
under our atlantic feet.
we ate falafel at a wooden table and felt
like we belonged...
a dream catcher hung
at the door, dancing with each opening.
Comments and questions are always appreciated! And a million thanks for all of the congratulations! You guys make my days brighter.