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Mitch Sisskind
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The Ant You could not call him the Ant to his face And you would be dead if you made the Mistake of calling him the Ant to his face. Or what if you called him the Ant except Not to his face, like you called him the Ant To somebody and he only heard about it? He wouldn't care. It meant nothing to him. The Clown It was the same way with Joey the Clown. They called him the Clown because he Liked to clown around but you yourself Could definitely not ever clown around. Or just like how he felt about the suburbs. A lot of them moved to the suburbs but His basic attitude was fuck the suburbs. Continue reading
Posted yesterday at The Best American Poetry
Are a few observations. Although he was right handed, he wore his watch on his right hand, which is slightly unusual. Also, he did not take his watch off when he went to bed at night. Although he was almost completely bald, he got a shave and some sort of scalp treatment every Friday at the barber shop in the railroad station. He did have some hair around the edge of his head, which also got cut. His tie, with a Windsor knot. I went to a grade school where we wore ties every day so he showed me how to do that knot. Once it was tied, you still had to pinch it. One of the few things I can remember him criticizing me for was if the knot didn't look right. Although he did not finish high school and I never saw him read a book, he had an excellent vocabulary. Once when I was about ten years old I said I would say a word and he should try to define it. He agreed. The word was impetus. Before he went to work one day he gave me some money and asked me to buy a small pack of Perfecto Garcia cigars. I was also about ten years old at that time. That night he asked about the cigars. I said I had forgotten. He quietly but very seriously said that if I asked him to do something, getting it done became the most important thing in his life. That made a huge impression on me. Somehow it was really scary. The next day I got the cigars. He was at the Jewish Orphans Home in Cleveland until he was 14 years old. When I asked if he ever tried to run away, he seemed surprised. "Never! We played indoor baseball every day." This picture was take at his office with a tiny "spy camera" called a Minox or something like that, which was briefly a fad in the 1950s. Continue reading
Posted 7 days ago at The Best American Poetry
A Daughter, Her Father and the Long-Gone Poet Who Brought Them Together In her memoir “Also a Poet: Frank O’Hara, My Father, and Me,” Ada Calhoun set out to write a poet’s biography and found a connection to her father instead. I'm really looking forward to this book! The NYT article references Schjeldahl's remarking that Ashbery was a "better poet" than O'Hara. Without debating the whole questionable enterprise of rating poets in the first place, I do believe that Ashbery was "better" in at least two respects. First, if we compare the "best" poetry of both men, Ashbery at his "best" was "better." Also, Rivers and Mountains is one of the "best" books of poetry in the 20th century, in a league with Four Quartets. O'Hara himself wrote in a review (in Poetry magazine) that Ashbery's Some Trees was "the most beautiful first book of poems since Wallace Stevens' Harmonium." Actually, Rivers and Mountains (Ashbery's thrid book) makes Wallace Stevens's Harmonium look like a Sunday school picnic. On the other hand, I also believe that Ashbery did not again produce a book at the level of Rivers and Mountains, nor a poem at the level of "The Skaters." But who could? And he certainly kept at it. Who knows what O'Hara might have done if he'd been able to keep at it? (Her died at the age of 40). When Bertrand Russell was told he was too young to write an autobiography, he agreed that he might someday have become president of Mexico. And one more thing, as Columbo used to say. O'Hara's Lunch Poems, is a masterpiece in its own right, "better" than anything Ashbery did in its own way, and not the less for that. Everything about it is great, the text, the size of the book, the colors, the publication date. Sam Johnson, always interested in physicians, taught that a correct prescription encompassed many factors: the drug, the patient, the season of the year, the time of day, who knows what else. I had the great fortune to buy my copy of Lunch Poems at City Lights bookstore one day in 1965. The exact right thing, at the exact right place, at the exact right time. Thanks, boss. Much ass grassy ass. Continue reading
Posted Jun 12, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
You've bought a Karelian Bear Dog, Now what? Does it have a name? Does it have a place to sleep? Food? Water? If you have a summer home Far from the city's hurly-burly then I am quite sanguine about prospects For excursions thither but mind you There will be fleas! So do you still Want the Karelian Bear Dog now? Kierkegaard said of marriage that You'll regret it if you do but also If you don't and the same goes For owning a Karelian Bear Dog, It's basically a roll of the dice. Continue reading
Posted Jun 3, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
West Covina or Rancho Cucamonga Got a phone number where you talk To dead people of course they're not Really dead it's just some guy out in West Covina or Rancho Cucamonga But what the hell, right? What the hell! You call the number and you say which Dead person you want to talk to so I said Who's the most popular dead person and The guy said Hitler so I said sounds good Tell Hitler to call me so I can talk to Hitler. Pretty soon the phone rang and a guy said This is Hitler so I said hey what's up Hitler How are things in West Covina or over in Rancho Cucamonga because it's a scam Man this is a scam and we both know it! -- Mitch Sisskind Continue reading
Posted May 26, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
Internet In those days I was doing trade shows Mostly in Vegas, Dallas, or Phoenix And since it was before the internet I used to leave voice mail messages For my wife where I would call myself On The Road Mouse and if she left one For me she was Stay At Home Mouse Or vice versa where she would be On The Road Mouse and I would be Stay At Home Mouse depending On who was on the road or at home Which in those days was Boulder And then we moved to Indianapolis Where we got the Internet in 1993. Text When cell phones came in we lived In Phoenix texting back and forth Many dozens of times every day. Phoenix Table Mat was a bad place To work and when I proffered In my texts that I wanted to look Elsewhere but was leery to quit she Wrote back in answer a text signed Optimistic Mouse which was sweet So I wrote one signed Love You Mouse. The problem was how in those days Texting was not automatically free So I got a $2000 one-month bill but Kept my mouth shut and paid it. Zoom Phrases like old home week or A trip down memory lane refer to When you wallow in the past by Talking about the Model T Ford When we now have the Tesla or About texting when we now have Snapchat, Instagram, and Zoom. I will download my personality Onto a computer so she can Zoom with me after I’m dead Or if she’s dead first she will Have downloaded herself also But what if we’re both dead? Well, it will be up to the kids. Continue reading
Posted May 20, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
People think the Golden Calf looked Like a calf but that is very wrong. (Literal readings of the Bible are a sin.) It looked like whatever you wanted And it looked different to everyone And since you could change it just By thinking about it the Golden Calf Was more like the guy's holographic Girlfriend in 'Bladerunner 2049' Than the Golden Calf as shown in The 1956 'Ten Commandments' movie. Don't forget: God can give you anything You want but the fly in the ointment is So can the devil! So can the devil! Continue reading
Posted May 13, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
I went to the doctor for my Annual checkup and he said, 'You've got cancer of the nose.' Of course I was very surprised But he added, 'You don't have to 'Do anything right today except 'With enough time you won't 'Have a nose.' I then inquired, 'What is the alternative, doc?' And he replied Mohs surgery About which I was clueless But did not like the sound of it One bit so I took the road Less traveled you might say. * Okay, stopping by woods on A snowy evening. I don't know About woods but growing up In Chicago I was familiar with Snowy evenings. One night It snowed so hard that they Called off school and we kids Went sledding at Devil's Hill All the next day and then As the dusk began to fall About four o'clock the snow Resumed so even if it was Not strictly speaking woods It was a snowy evening. * What about the poem 'Sand Dunes' By Robert Frost? He describes how A town doesn't get inundated by Ocean waves but it does succumb To sand dunes which he says are Brown and dry. I believe this refers To how you can get muddle-headed In your old age even if you survive The earlier years of your life because It's like your brain gets clogged up With sand. Also you will be buried In the earth (sand) unless you want To be cremated which reminds me Of 'Fire and Ice' by Robert Frost. Continue reading
Posted May 6, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
Notice fence made of plumbing pipes around the grass. This has also disappeared. furniture mart disappears harris school disappears pittsfield building disappears prudential building disappears buckingham fountain disappears temple sholom disappears 152 bus disappears 151 bus disappears 36 bus disappears wilson avenue el station disappears howard street el station disappears immaculata high school disappears wendella boat ride disappears elks memorial disappears ashkenaz deli disappears pinners disappears 22 bus disappears barbara's book store disappears senn high school disappears lakeview high school disappears lane tech high school disappears melrose restaurant disappears north shore day camp disappears baha'i temple disappears mrs wall disappears miss bailey disappears mrs samelius disappears mr peart disappears irv kupcinet disappears lyle’s drug store disappears richter's butcher shop disappears lake shore theater disappears parkway theater disappears commonwealth hotel disappears belmont hotel disappears rosehill cemetery disappears 400 theater disappears palmolive building disappears abc toyland disappears bowlium disappears playdium disappears webster hotel disappears diversey arms hotel disappears turtle wax building disappears corned beef center disappears meigs field disappears goose island disappears thillens stadium disappears covent theater disappears uptown theater disappears ivan bunny disappears 442 wellington avenue disappears 432 belmont avenue disappears eli’s place for steak disappears chez paree disappears london house disappears 2350 club disappears germania club disappears town hall police station disappears . st rita high school disappears north austin boys club disappears walnut room disappears gyp joint disappears olson rug company disappears standard club disappears covenant club disappears imperial house disappears mr kelly’s disappears king fat disappears bob spoo disappears howard king disappears marty faye disappears queen of angels disappears devil’s hill disappears fritzl’s disappears berghof disappears billy goat disappears sherman lollar disappears michael reese hospital disappears frankenstein memorial center disappears richard’s drive in carfeteria disappears lincoln park disappears chess pavillion disappears como inn disappears museum of science and industry disappears halsted street disappears vaughn’s seed store disappears planetarium disappears shangri-la disappears ann sather’s disappears chicago stadium disappears merchandise mart disappears maxwell street disappears florence ladies’ sportsware disappears midway plaisance disappears rainbow arena disappears westlawn cemetery disappears dr paul hurwitz disappears republic steel disappears gripe and groan tavern disappears don the beachcomber disappears midway airport disappears roosevelt university disappears peterson avenue disappears gate of horn disappears lawson YMCA disappears playboy club disappears moose cholak disappears kukla fran & ollie disappear polk brothers disappears binyon’s disappears american blower corporation disappears smolarek disappears slobodnik disappears rabbi samuel schwartz disappears cafe bonaparte disappears camellia house disappears green oaks kiddyland disappears affy tapple disappears mandel brothers department store disappears wieboldt’s disappears mrs hering’s chicken pot pie disappears jack schatz and donjo meddlevine disappear bounce land trampoline park disappears fortnightly club disappears potter palmer mansion disappears children’s building disappears ferris wheel park disappears general motors powerama disappears yukon eric disappears fraser thomas disappears doctor zipper disappears washtenaw avenue disappears zum deutchen eck disappears board of trade disappears cloud room disappears timber lanes bowling disappear satellite papa disappears big bill hill disappears jack eigen disappears red top cab disappears chicken vesuvio disappears corsetorium disappears 7313... Continue reading
Posted Feb 25, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
The Checkout Line Death is not like the checkout line because People at death do not want to look at the National Enquirer which many people do Want to look at it in the checkout line at The supermarket, Best Buy, or wherever. Death is also not like the checkout line Because most people don't think about Money at their death although there are Doctor bills but they're not the dead guy's Responsibility any longer, obviously. To sum it up the checkout line and death Are different but one thing is not different Which is how once it's over you are free To drive out of the parking lot or go to Heaven if you are dead, or wherever. The Boy Who Cried Wolf Lump on a log is not an expression You often hear but as you get older You're treated like a lump on a log. If I go to the Starbucks coffee shop I get treated like a lump on a log Every time I go in there so as a result I stopped going in there because I get treated like a lump on a log Every time I go in there and also If you keep getting treated like a lump On a log but you keep going in there You're like the boy who cried wolf. Continue reading
Posted Feb 11, 2022 at The Best American Poetry
I'm in the Bonus Round! All the sights! All the sounds! Nothing is out of the question Now that I'm in the Bonus Round! Continue reading
Posted Dec 24, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Rav Heth Kokodiakomis came To Widawa where martyrs fell And so artfully celebrated pesach That he grew prideful of it and Reclined long after the seder ended. Then a question came to him from The Upper World: "Why are you prideful When in this town there is an Ignoramus Who on this same night has celebrated The seder in a more accomplished way?" Meanwhile holy men had come to hear Rav Heth Kokodiakomis and he asked them, "Do you know an Ignoramus?" One said, "I know him," and Rav Heth Kokodiakomis Told him to ask the Ignoramus to come there. When he came Rav Heth Kokodiakomis inquired, "Did you celebrate the seder?" The Ignoramus Wept and said, 'I was drunk and when my wife Woke me I saw the egg and the wine and I ate The egg and drank the wine and went back to sleep." Then a great voice from the Upper World said, "This man is an Ignoramus and his father was An Ignoramus. His words and also his deeds are Received in the Upper World for he knows their Truth and, yea, an Ignoramus knows nothing else." Continue reading
Posted Dec 10, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Each Saturday Lou's four hour pinochle Game now in its thirtieth-first year, Pinochle again on Monday nights And on Fridays the family card games, Men and women at separate tables. To the downtown public library I bore my briefcase after school In Eisenhower’s last years to read Old newspapers: WAR the full page Headline of 1917 and again in 1941. Here and there bent over tables In the gloomy main reading room Men wiping their eyes, coughing, Blowing their noses until limping Urgently to the awful bathroom. These men, were they younger Than Lou I found myself asking. I saw his steps shortening until He died like the silver dot on the Turned-off television screen. Continue reading
Posted Dec 2, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
He called them baby, honey, sweetie, Darling and things of that nature; He mastered the lost art of flattery; He said you're looking good tonight; He said let's get the show on the road; Weekends he whisked them off on Getaways to Tahoe or Joshua Tree; Like a rooster strutting in the barnyard He chose among his ardent hens until In a flash as if on the road to Damascus He saw that if he loved only one woman And was loved by her in return he would More deeply fathom women's mysteries Than if he snabbled a thousand of them. Continue reading
Posted Nov 12, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Jack Benny John Ashbery called me after he died So you can imagine my excitement When in that droll hyper-nasalated Timbre quite unchallenged by death He chatted on about the bowls of Pitted cherries provided as snack-food In the upper worlds and of afternoons Climbing trees with Edna Millay to read Comic books with her in the branches. Then his voice dropped two octaves And he spoke solemnly of Jack Benny: 'You can say funny things or say things 'Funny but silence was the punchline 'For Jack Benny.' And he was gone. The Buddha When the Buddha saw a hungry leopard He fed himself to the leopard lest in his Next incarnation he were to return as Another hungry leopard rather than A beautiful hummingbird that flies Sixty miles an hour. I must ask what Are the hungry leopards in my life To which I must feed myself whether It's by listening to an hour of bullshit On a cellphone or accepting that I'm Falling apart as when the Buddha Accepted getting cut up into pieces Because he knew that he was more Than just his physical arms and legs. Continue reading
Posted Nov 5, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
The Crow The crow died and we buried It with extra earth as in the Iliad Where stones were fitted tightly Together against the day when Spring rains would surely come. As often happens, there had been A sudden burst of frantic activity, A final fluttering one might say And then transformation into the Work of art entitled dead crow Forever unforgotten with clarity Of future recollection in Nabokov's Elegant phrasing but not knowing Or even not knowing how to know Whether it was male or female. 'I won't throw dirt in that dog's face.' It's funny, not haha funny but funny Like when something stays in your Mind over many years or even for Your whole life while other things That would seem to be of greater Importance deliquesce like when Frosty the Snowman melted away. 'I won't throw dirt in that dog's face' Is what I heard a man say in 1975 so Without going into any detail I'll just Mention how there are days when 'I won't throw dirt in that dog's face' Is my first thought in the morning and Might be my last one when I croak. Continue reading
Posted Oct 29, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Hold Onto Your Hat We learned how if the ship goes down you Can make a life-preserver of your shirt By taking it off and slamming it down onto The water with the air inside so the shirt Bubbles up and then you can hold onto it. If you don't have a shirt you can do The same thing with your pants by Taking your pants off and then you Trap the air in your pants as described Above to form the pants life-preserver. If you have neither shirt nor pants You can make a life-preserver out of Your hat by slamming your hat onto The water as described above to Make yourself a hat life-preserver. They said if you fuckers are going To grab for your crotch we want you To do it here and not when the ship Is burning and actually a few fellows Did end up grabbing for their crotches. Feh! Feh! Feh! Just as there are names we mustn't speak, Questions to remain unasked, proscribed Mentations, even downright hilarious jokes That ought never be told whether at the Water cooler or in a duck-hunting blind, Yes, that's all well and good but when You slip up (as you will) bite your tongue, Spit three times over your shoulder and With whatever heartfelt sincerity you can Possibly muster say, "Feh! Feh! Feh!" Is it a perfect solution? No. But at least You'll not be cast into outer darkness. Mitzi We never missed You Bet Your Life, Groucho's quiz show, my father and I Awaiting the secret word no matter How week after week that word was Unspoken until at last the $100 duck To spontaneous applause descended. But enough of that. The strange part Was one night riding with Groucho In an elevator, he in a French beret And accompanied by a much younger Woman, how as Mitzi the dachshund Approached him he was so frightened With none of the sarcastic aplomb We associated with him, Lou and I. Continue reading
Posted Oct 22, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Oh, don’t mind me. I come from a time When new issues of Playboy magazine Sold out in one day, when the windows Of coffee shops on Broadway were piled High with Playboys at eight o’clock in The morning and by early afternoon Not one Playboy was anywhere to be had. I also lived to see the day when Playboy Was the kiss of death for any enterprise Foolish enough to display the rabbit while A million sodden cab drivers had rabbits Hanging from their vehicles’ mirrors And then of course Guccione appeared With his willingness to show pubic hair. Continue reading
Posted Oct 8, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Hugh Hefner For the exordium of a bon vivant lifestyle In the dour and savage city of Chicago He merits all the appreciation in the world. Here's what I mean. In 1953 I attended A terrifying professional wrestling match At the old Marigold Arena between The heel Dick The Bruiser Afflis and Bobby Managoff whose actual name Was Manoogian. I say terrifying Because the onlooking mob of janitors And their wives was screaming for blood Yet that very night the first issue of Playboy was approaching readiness Which was nearly called Stag Party. Three Sonnets on Lines of Ashbery 1. We've heard lots of names here Tonight but I'll tell you one name We have not heard which is the Name of Slobodnik who was The janitor at the high school Where I worked and one day He said swimming is good for You because swimming gets The crud out of your pores so I have remembered his words Spoken around 1975 just like Neither have I ever forgotten The line here a scarf flies and There an excited call is heard. 2. We have heard a lot of names But one name we have not heard Is Smolarek the Wisconsin man I used to play basketball with And he always won but then I won so the next week he won Again and he stated how he Wanted to win today so he Fucked not his wife last night Nor that morning either in 1975 Which I remember as clearly as Whose wind is desire starching A petal whose disappointment Broke into a rainbow of tears. 3. The last name we have not heard Is Greene how we were on the Drill field and he started screaming Supplementary get your goddamn Ass out here now where the hell is Supplementary get your slack ass Out here Supplementary and we Had no idea what he was talking About for there was nobody named Supplementary and then suddenly It dawned on all of us at once like A miracle that he meant Sulloway Which I have n'er forgot just like Now I let you go signed The Dwarf. Continue reading
Posted Oct 1, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
The Oasis Now (at last) living alone in Barstow He loves getting a load of laundry From the dryer and taking a nap With the warm clothes on his head. That's why he rented this room In Barstow, because it comes with A clothes dryer and with a washer Too but he cares nothing for that. With the clothes on his head he Likes to remember the addresses Of all the places he lived in his life And when he wakes up he eats at The Oasis. Try napping with clothes On your head fresh from the dryer. Pinochle Today is my father's birthday, he's 130, And although sometimes we are in touch I do all the talking, no way around that. If only I could ask him about his devotion To the game of pinochle, all those years Of the Saturday game with Charlie Shapiro, Joe Wais, and Gus Golding, and after Gus Golding died three-handed pinochle With only Charlie and Joe. Furthermore Starting around 1957 the games began On Monday nights with Bob Kadison and Julius Jaffe plus Sundays with Leo Messer And Nate Zebelman. What was it about Pinochle? Was it shouting out those bids? Continue reading
Posted Aug 6, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
When I ran into Charles Bukowski in A men's room at Santa Anita in 1980 He joked that you should never bet on A horse that the guy at the next urinal Touts you on. We laughed about it And then I mentioned how when I was going around Mexico in 1965 I didn't have a bowel movement For two weeks on account of How scary the bathrooms were. 'No shit!' he said. We laughed About it and he asked if when At long last I did defecate was it Anything special and I said 'Nah.' Continue reading
Posted Jul 30, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
The Acorn On Oak The hamburgers, giant meatballs Was all they really were but for ONE MILLION DOLLARS you got It just EXACTLY like you wanted it Or I sure as hell did! Oh, hell yes! The guy asked me did I want Another one and I said damn right I want another one! HELL YES I want another one and I have Never looked back! Oh, hell no! I asked the guy why it's called The Acorn On Oak and he said Because Oak Street and also how God sees the end in the beginning, He sees the TREE in the SEED! Geh Kacken Here's how to get a reservation At any restaurant you want -- Or not just a reservation but A table right away, the best one In the house and if not then They can GEH KACKEN! You call them up and here's What you say -- 'Hello, 'I'm coming over, I like to eat 'And I'm not afraid to pay for it, 'So take care of me and if not 'Then you can GEH KACKEN!' Usually they will then ask for Your name which really makes No difference so I might say GEH KACKEN or I might say YOU CAN CALL ME PISHER! The Golden Ox You and I, my love, so many nights Driving on Clybourne past the Golden Ox In the years I was with Phoenix Table Mat, And later when I joined Quick Service Textiles At Walter Gips’ urging we still often spoke Of the Golden Ox and planned to eat there But we never ate at the Golden Ox And now we never will. Continue reading
Posted Jul 23, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Inferno Oh for God's sake you don't Have idea number one about Basketball or horse racing, You could never navigate Your way around a wine list And the many childish books You've been reading about Hieroglyphics will never get You through an actual papyrus. When will you emerge from Your eggshell and realize that The universe doesn't revolve Around you, for God's sake? Oh dear God! God in heaven!. Purgatorio Oh for God's sake! Oh dear Lord Have mercy! Dear God on high! Good God! Good Lord! Oh God! Oh for God's sake! Let us pray! Have mercy, Lord! Oh my God! Praise him for his beneficence! Oh for God's sake! Oh Lord! Sing praises of God's name! Oh my dear Lord and Master! Who is like unto the Lord God? Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest! Oh for God's sake! Hallelujah! Let us sing his praises! Oh God! Hallelujah! Oh for the love of God! Paradiso I've been (is this the right word?) An ignoramus. I revere Liszt but Now I see his being irresistible To a woman like Marie d'Agoult -- An exceptionally serious woman -- Derived from his own seriousness Which, however, never expressed Itself through anger or violence. In recitals Liszt did sometimes Physically wreck a piano and In 1838 in Vienna he destroyed Three pianos in one concert But those pianos were in poor Shape to begin with and Liszt's Response was exasperation but Not anger properly so-called. Theophrastus (quoted by Seneca) Proclaimed it impossible for A good man to resist anger in The presence of a bad man or In evil circumstances but Seneca Disagreed to the effect that 'Surely no one is more peaceful, More free from passion, and Less given over to hate than A good man.' Consequently Liszt was loved by women as Was Berlioz also to an extent. Amen. May it always be so. Continue reading
Posted Jul 9, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
Her final words? For years She gave thought to them But here was the difficulty: Her reputed last murmurings Would be far from final and Quite the opposite in fact: The words in the hidden box, Those are her final and Immortal words that won't Or can't stop for death yet Those words are still unborn, Will quicken only when Vinnie Discovers them and, baffled, Proffers them to Susan -- So she will say nothing now, Turning her face to the wall. The silence is her last refusal. The death is her next refraction. * Two poetic phrasings have been described as Emily's last words: "Called back" and "I must go in, the fog is rising." But these appeared as notes composed some time before her passing. If there were any spoken words, most likely to her sister Lavinia, no one knows. Continue reading
Posted Jul 2, 2021 at The Best American Poetry
As a word-lover she loved gamahuche, Gamahuching, will be (was) gamahuched, Or in a sentence: The bee gamahuched The flowers. She marveled at the bees Entering daffodils enveloped by sunlight Refracted through tender golden petals: Surely Solomon in all his glory never Gamahuched like these and once at Great risk she allowed herself mentally To gamahuche Susan as when the bee Enters the flower or wantonly imagined Herself gamahuched by that stern Athena Who lived just across the garden and who Doubtless was gamahuched by Austin. Continue reading
Posted Jun 24, 2021 at The Best American Poetry