December 2009
30 posts
Realizing my ears were unaffected, the preacher took advantage of my laryngitis to speak for once without dissent.
‘Don’t they teach you nothing at that waspy school of yours?’ The good woman asked. ‘Yeah,’ said my nephew. ‘Last week we learned brunch.’
‘Do me a favor, buddy.’ The strange man said. ‘Could you flush this for me?’ My friend complied.
The hassles of returning a knockoff snuggy made out of genuine pleather to a Chinese merchant in Quincy, MA.
The seven year old exclaimed, ‘A threeway! I get to be on top,’ as his cousin unpacked the controller. My own siblings cast me quiet looks.
The secret to Christmas is in the gift of giving, like expensive chocolates for that diabetic brother-in-law you loathe.
He shook his head at the painters sanding. ‘Shouldn’t they be wearing masks?’ He coughed, then smoked another drag.
The gate is open, but he is gone. My locks are doubled and curtains drawn. The comfort of a fire escape and tin whistles with sharp reeds.
Why I’m awake still; more curious even, why did I make eye contact with that man outside my window, running fresh tracks in the frozen snow?
The punk stormed out the gay bar screaming. The Latin twinks and their cop cousins gave chase. Later, a bigot lay cuffed on slushy pavement.
There was a fire next to snow on a Manhattan street. Cold smoke mists into ice over open hydrants. Footprints of a struggle.
The landlord left me half a walkway to shovel and one full sled to use. I went back in to finish my sleep.
In my neighborhood with its diversity, the chance of a child’s first sight of snow is high, even in this visibility.
During the exchange of weekend custody, the kids were also forced to switch from one brand of smartphone to another. Truly a yuppie divorce.
Once upon your bed, I melt. The sandy grain of itch once felt is gone now you don’t ask to stay. Stay.
Our end is serialized, much like the chase what I run for. But even so close we’re distanced, now we’ve gone too far.
I’m an unexpected and unwilling catmister. They see my apartment window as a beacon in the night, with all lights lit and fire burning tuna.
He learned quickly from his daughters to assimilate means to be picky, and returned the spicy chicken platter because it was too plain.
There is some joy in having the privilege of yelling white devil to a room full of academics in the context of ethnic
‘Anything bread is half off,’ she said. The old lady pointed at a roll. The cashier shook her head. ‘That ain’t bread.’
The two drunk Santas made out on the streets of SoHo, confusing the young’uns passing by what’s naughty and nice.
I didn’t recognize the name he used to go by, nor the photo the parole officer showed. My neighbor paid in time, in pounds, and in hairline.
He uncrossed legs and found religion. The father, the son, and the virgin oh-my-Mary.
Yellow leaves and bloodshot eyes weren’t ready for this raining white. The kind of snow that melts in its fall.
The raven haired gang hangs outside the laundromat on cold Sundays, because nothing gains street cred like fresh laundry smell.
The less than vertical rain and sleet look so good from the historic midtown penthouse, but not so much once I hit the street.
‘To think,’ he said, shrugging at the receptionist. ‘She interviewed for this job and someone actually hired her.’ Our line got even slower.
When asked about her accordion tattoo, she admitted she didn’t play. ‘Then why the fuck, you silly girl?’ said the older woman as she left.
Am I really the taller now? Has life beaten inches off of you? May you and the lovely new wife bring back the miles we’ve all lost.
Four years later, though it sounds just like my own, hearing my brother’s voice is jarring. Like something lost found.