Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Nine

Monday, August 22, 2016

Three Poems and Dance from 1996

Friday, August 12, 2016

Earth Spritz

Earth needs a spritz.
Everyone is spastic
and drips.
Gold bars turn mealy
and diamonds become
spreadable as butter
in a tub.
Let me off
at the next stop.

Thursday, August 11, 2016

Oh Tulip

Poem

Light rain in White Plains.
The doberman responds to French commands.
Out on the street people are glazed.
All I need is a bed with a pillow
and some nature show about the Arctic.
Have you ever seen Mick Jagger weep?
Me neither.
A sense of the weather
being very present and authentic.
Tumble in the grass
next to the Hudson River
during lunch.
Think about it:
Someone is waking up
next to the ocean
feeling all smug
that they can get away
from something.
On 10th Avenue
I do not abide by that,
I eat peanut butter and jelly
and lift the gates
to show I'm open.

Tuesday, August 02, 2016

Reading at the Dia Foundation with Bobby Bird, 2015

Sunday, July 31, 2016

Three

Saturday, July 30, 2016

Subject of a Song

There might be a way out,
I conclude. My shirt is still damp
from New York's soupy streets.
The Fedex man and me
are both at work, so there's that.
On 10th Avenue
a Great Dane slobbers
on a little girl's arm.
Rain falls, or doesn't.
The sun shines, or makes
a beeline to the exit,
which is only a form
of revolution. You can bank
on change, loosen your boots,
strain for the plug, but you'll always
and only be a dumb nugget of woes
making plans you may not see through.