Saturday, February 26, 2005



At the Starbucks next to
The Barnes and Noble where
Somali cabdrivers huddle in winter
And where last nightI sipped a tall hot chocolate
And read some poetry
The guy with the black overcoat
And the shiny shoes and
The look of what
The look of money looks like
If you are that kind of guy
Asks the poor women across from him
“If you don’t mind me asking
How old are you?”
“59,” she says the poor woman
“I have six grandchildren.”
“Your time is now,” he tells her
“All the rates go up at sixty”
And she must have told the guy
How much money she had
Because he says “You are in
An excellent position” and tells her
That it might seem ok to have your
Money in the bank with their
So called guarantee but do we
Really know if the worst happens
Is it really guaranteed and
Six grandchildren that’s wonderful
And there are some funds where
She could put her money.
And I am reading that Frank O’Hara poem
“Autobiographia Literari”
That great poem: O’Hara the lonely child
The orphan even birds flew away
From him and then those great last lines
“And here I am, the / center of all beauty!
/writing these poems! / Imagine!"
And I laugh out loud.
And they both look at me
Like I’m crazy.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Viewmaster Posted by Hello

Uncle Joe 1941 Posted by Hello


Shakespeare was something... but Shakespeare's mum
Struck all the poxy critics dumb!
Till one found voice and then another
"The Bard owed everything to his mother!
"Or so she dreamed. Then woke to life
Stuck up in Stratford with Shakespeare's wife.

Poor, poor motherless Eve
Might not have fallen
but it's hard to believe
How could she know?
"Why the hell should I bother?
Give me that apple.
I don't have a mother."

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

The Youngest Ranger Posted by Hello

The Younger Ranger Posted by Hello

The Young Ranger Posted by Hello