Monday, January 21, 2008
The Sadness of Puppies
Up there, squirrels, teasing and clacking.
Birds, up there, away and away.
Up there, plum flowers, petals falling
everywhere too fast.
Down here, my nose can’t stop.
My tail nearly levitates my whole behind.
Down here, once in a while, a tongue on kid tongue,
often a tongue skin the color inside my ear when it flaps
open and one of them refolds it,
but no one licks back.
Down here, first teeth drop out on the floor.
Down here, feet I like to lie on, warmer.
Up there, she says, “Puppy love.”Up there, squirrels.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
The New York streets look nude and stupid
With Ted and Edwin no longer here
To light them up with their particularity
Of loving them and with intelligence
In some large sense of the word:
New York’s lost some of its rough charm
And there’s just no getting around it
By pretending the rest of us can somehow make up for it
Or that future generations will. I hear
A dog barking in the street and it’s drizzling
At 6 A.M. and there’s nothing warm
Or lovable or necessary about it, it’s just
Some dog barking in some street somewhere.
I hate that dog.