At 9 in line at The Dry Goat Don he heard this from Dee: “How many lives must it consume – French pressed, small batch coffee?” The faded denim of her shirt Agreed with gentle breasts. Don, helping synch… Read More ›
sex (more or less)
In which a poet realizes he’d better exit a yoga class
Along the floor of that class there rippled such a rage, As woman upon woman waited on mats not rafts, For some soft music and exercises that thousands Of penguins badly needing icebergs would not assuage, Nor rid them of… Read More ›
Writing doesn’t have to involve running away
I read a poem by a young woman About her attachment to female racehorses. I know they come first, she concluded. Something like that. I thought, being a man, I should write About stallions – their muscles? speed? power?… Read More ›
Mani-Pedi, a toxic Christian poem? with extensive footnotes?
Or, This being the notes of a lonely poet who has passed a neighborhood nail salon packed to the gills on a rainy Sunday evening Sometime after a Jewish Mary without exertion hatched a Christ, Lawsuit-seducing Catholics thought their… Read More ›
Quand – l’argent – le métier – leur dévouement à l’art –
When – his money – her work – her devotion to art {The English version, though chronologically the first and perhaps freer of a foreigner’s faults, here follows the French, stanza by stanza. La version française, quoique écrit après l’anglais… Read More ›
Art, Sex, Politics (Serving House Books)
In a new, provocative collection of essays, William Eaton, the author of Surviving the Twenty-First Century, shares the pleasures of questions, tastes, reading and more visual arts. That we are animals, that is as sure as ever. How savagely we… Read More ›
A woman my views on (sex and on) women sought to gather
A woman my views on (sex and on) women sought to gather. We’re thinking of partnering; these seemed greatly to matter, Revealing whether I would do; or perhaps what she really wished— Was continuing on alone instead of love… Read More ›
