newest / older / diaryland


AUTHOR / Site Meter / contact / face

also read: [email protected] / sorethroat


PURCHASE THE DIGITAL COLLECTION (2013)

RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV
RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV
RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV
RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV

HOME

2004-04-03

Francis Joseph Spellman
B. 5.4.1889 Whitman, Mass. / D. 12.2.1967 New York City
Unknown

My agrarian God
you smell
of grains fermented
gummy woods twice-burnt
and beeswax chilled and hoarded.

I was hanging on your stoop
I was calling you and getting your machine
I was wondering if you thought your �No Menus� sign would really work
and if you knew your tape was full
then why
when all at once you pulled up in a cab
the back seat was full of your robe-swirl and fly-away effulgence; meaning
to get the door for you
I stood.
The taxi pulled away.

I still carry your picture:
an oblique view into the bottom of a teacup
where overnight has drawn a sugared bulls-eye and a ring.

Consolation Site: One touch of Venus

: back : / : forth :