April 2009
28 posts
I see you, baby. Shaking that kaftan. Shaking that kaftan. Clucking your Farsi tongue at all the nasty boys you secretly cruise.
He tried to order from the already confused waitress then turned to me. ‘Why can’t anyone in this country understand me?’ I replied, ‘What?’
‘We don’t got change for a hundred,’ said the cashier. ‘A fifty?’ the girl asked. He shook his head. She grabbed her unpaid jujubes & left.
The nurses considered putting me in isolation for my flu-like symptoms. They sat me next to a drunk instead. ‘Shalom faggot!’ he greeted me.
The train began moving at the most imperfect moment—with all doors open, and three elderly ladies along with their blind friend escalating.
Two stops later the confused mother lost all hope when she turned to another Asian fellow with the same slow reply. ‘I don’t speak Chinese.’
‘Then get it boxed and let’s go,’ said the guy. ‘I’m not done eating,’ said the other. An hour later, he waited for the check alone.
The two lifeguards rushed to the lady yelling for help from the deep end. Before they dove in, she pointed downward. ‘My goggles!’ she said.
I went to 3 bodegas to fulfill the performers’ requests: toilet paper, bananas, a 5 gallon bucket, & the bluest bottle of Dawn I could find.
Yelling at the top of my lungs while hurtling past clouds towards the Earth was life’s most peaceful moment. The New Jersey Transit wasn’t.
At 13500 feet even my racing heart felt sweaty. Then a minute of pure arched bliss until I pulled the parachute open and felt my nuts crack.
Thoughts of skydiving tomorrow keep me awake, not out of fear of death, but of worry I will shit my pants and piss off my tandem instructor.
I hear her sob under the music. ‘I can show you the little town, it’s a quiet part of your world.’ Undecided what tale will mend that heart.
The girl talking trash on her cell turned to the staring woman. ‘I used to sound like you,’ she said. ‘Back when I had someone to speak to.’
‘If he even looks at another girl,’ she told her. ‘I’ll cut off his penis and lead a parade.’ She marched in place. We got off a stop early.
The man with the van saw the abandoned mattress down the street, descended, flicked the bugs off with his dagger & piled it atop the others.
My hands full with trash bags of clothes for Goodwill, the mustachioed marketer looked quite puzzled when I refused his consumer propaganda.
‘The show starts in 30 minutes!’ the drag queen announced every half hour. Unable to decipher her thick accent, the audience wait undeterred
Tied by their grip on a shopping bag, the cabbie & his fare held their phones like switchblades, threatening to call the cops on the other.
‘First priority,’ the old man said to the Automated Postal Center. In response, the machine timed out. ‘Assrape!’ he yelled. ‘Ass. Rape.’
His overactive imagination/ was a Qualita Non Grata/ when it came to watching the movie/ about Vagina Dentata.
I’m reading at the Bowery Poetry club on April 19, 8 pm. Those in NYC, who are so inclined, are more than welcome. http://tinyurl.com/cfk2l3
He handed the comedian his number on a postit, fastened the lid on his spiked cup of coffee and left. She looked grateful for the material.
In the old trunk sealed from last millennium, an overdue copy of The Tempest in circulation since 1982 ended its journey with my name, 1999.
My old neighbors were cordial until I got behind the wheels. Flashbacks of my driver’s permit days left the streets deserted like a Western.
I’ve automated my roommate’s habit of dropping Japanese couch surfers on my lap. Greet the strangers, serve the beer, flip to baseball, bed.
She dropped her mail while jay walking and had to choose between risking her life or saving the catalog. Lucky for Ikea the taxi braked.
Pretend to wear an invisible Bluetooth when caught laughing alone in public. The gullible are impressed & the New Yorkers won’t give a shit.