Tuesday, September 16, 2014

WRITTEN IN 1959


In 1956, I was nothing. In 1957, I was born, and saw my first zero.  As a little boy, I drew a zero as best I could, but it ended up being a small pink smile. As a young man, I drank champagne, and thousands of zeroes tickled my nose and vanished. As an old man, I watched Iggy Pop on TV and said HA! and felt nothing. Yet by the end, nothing and zero became the same thing, and I felt the small pink smile disappear onto my face. Are there zeroes in space? Yes, there are so many that you can count them, if you want. And you do want to. Zeroes, I want you. I wish it was 1958.


Pattie hangs promises by 
wooden clothespin.

Pattie hangs promises by 
wooden clothespin not to dry.

Pattie hangs promises by 
wooden clothespin to 
feel the breeze.

Pattie feels the breeze. 
Not the promises. 
Pattie feels. 
Not promises.

Promises is just is 
and hangs there 
and sometimes 
blows off.

The wind says WHOOSH 
and there they go. Pattie says: 

WOW but she meant it, and 
what happened next was 
scarcely a surprise.


If you want your life to seem more like butterscotch, use one cup of light brown sugar rather than one half cup of granulated sugar and one half cup of light brown sugar. 

Monday, September 15, 2014

THE THINGS I MEANT TO ASK YOU & SAY TO YOU (BUT DIDN’T)



Would you like for me to make you breakfast? Let’s go ice skating. Would you like to buy a new dress? I think you are quite brilliant. Would you like for me to make you lunch? Let’s find a tomato. Can I cut up a few apples for you? Here’s a tomato. I washed the sheets and they should be cool if you want to take a nap. That’s a nice song, where did it come from? There’s another tomato. I washed them for you. Let me do that for you. Let me also do this for you. And that. Would you like for me to make dinner for you? Let’s lock the door and hide. Steak is always nice, it feels old fashioned. Inside. Feel my heart beating. Steak it is then. What’s your favorite color? With tomatoes. Do you think French Poodles are funny?  Or loud? Where are you going? Must you go? Listen to those dogs bark. Man oh man. Must you go? Let’s sing a song. first. Did you fall asleep? You’re quite a tomato. You can’t hear me, can you? What must I do next? Is there anything I can do at all?

AN ITALIAN RESTAURANT


It was a beautiful old brick white building with two stories and a patio on the second floor with filigreed railing and brick-colored tile and wrought iron chairs where we could sit and drink Lambrusco and talk about what the city was like thirty years ago when we used to live here before this restaurant even existed (I think it was a head shop back then) how we might laugh and perhaps drink even too much (Lambrusco)! but for the fact that this restaurant closed ten years ago and now is a pile of rubble at our feet which we walked quickly through as we felt the presence of hoodlums behind us and they were gaining on us although they were not real hoodlums, they were just a fond memory of hoodlums, wearing black, after all these years, wanting us again.


“I thought of you tonight when I was eating ramen noodles” she said. “But I never eat ramen noodles” I said. “And because you don’t,” she said, “I thought of you.”

Tuesday, September 09, 2014

YUCK, EEK


I like the way you nibble on my ear like a spider does right before it rains and you walk into the web in the rain and say YUCK and we are so in love that the sun comes out and the spider web bursts into flames due to sunshine but the spider is safe and far away by then inside your suitcase in Mexico while you are by the pool in Mexico stirring a piña colada with the thumb that says EEK that you bought in a novelty store in Paris, you said, I bought it in Paris, but we never went to Paris, I said, it was just a small, warm town in Florida.

Thursday, September 04, 2014

PEACHY


Just like you don’t look forward to all movies, you don’t look forward to all headaches, but I am looking forward to this one. I imagine myself with this headache, lying down in a peach-colored room and saying “I will never get up again” and then you saying “Yes, you will” and then me saying “No sir, I will not” and then you say something unrelated to my getting up, and then you saying about my getting up: “Yes you will, Baby.”

Tuesday, September 02, 2014


I have noticed that there are no more welcome mats in the world. I believe that perhaps there was a ban imposed some years ago. It was probably the same day that a celebrity died, perhaps the day Martha Graham died, and everyone was thinking about her contribution to the world of modern dance, which was significant, and no one noticed the article about welcome mats at the bottom of the page, saying, “There are no more welcome mats in the world” next to the article about the Taiwan Unicorn Hibiscus, which is such a lively, inviting flower, and inside of it, you see four tiny dancers, little white ghost dancers, dancing their hearts out.


What I collected in my photo album: 1) a photograph of Greta Garbo sitting in a chair next to a lion. 2) A bottle of Côtes de Gascogne Rosé 3) a photograph of a 1978 Miller-Meteor Hearse 4) a drawing of Swift Premium All Beef Hamburger Patties in a can 6) A photograph of a 1975 AMC Pacer driving over the train of a blonde woman’s dress (with the word “Jean Charles” in it)  7) a photograph of a baby in a christening dress being held upright by her mother wearing a black rug over her body–

So here are my thoughts: why?

Thursday, August 28, 2014

I want to be a tennis ball. I want to be inside in a little can with my two lovers until I hear that great vacuum sound of fresh opening up, that sound of love, and then: there’s the world! I want to go there right away then, and be by myself in the sun and clouds and sky, floating ever upward, not being used for sport, not being hit in the face or butt for someone else’s amusement. I want to be free to float, or to bounce, or to rest, alone. I want to be yellow.


Once there was a saint who was very naughty. When her father came home from a hard day’s work, he removed his boots and sat in the comfy chair near the fire. “Come give your Papa a kiss,” he said. But the little saint was tired and comfy, too, and didn’t want to move. “If you want a kiss, you must come get it from me!” “You naughty little girl!” the father said. “Just for that...” we will leave the story there. She was a naughty little girl, but she wasn’t a saint yet. When we are in heaven I will tell you the rest of the story, which concludes some fifteen years before she becomes a saint, dies, and then goes to heaven and tells me a story while I am sleeping and gazing at her, wondering if she looks somewhat familiar. 

THE THINGS I MEANT TO ASK YOU & SAY TO YOU (BUT DIDN’T)



Would you like for me to make you breakfast? Let’s go ice skating. Would you like to buy a new dress? I think you are quite brilliant. Would you like for me to make you lunch? Let’s find a tomato. Can I cut up a few apples for you? Here’s a tomato. I washed the sheets and they should be cool if you want to take a nap. That’s a nice song, where did it come from? There’s another tomato. I washed them for you. Let me do that for you. Let me also do this for you. And that. Would you like for me to make dinner for you? Let’s lock the door and hide. Steak is always nice, it feels old fashioned. Inside. Feel my heart beating. Steak it is. What’s your favorite color? With tomatoes. Do you think French Poodles are funny?  Where are you going? Must you go? Listen to those dogs bark. Must you go? Let’s sing a song. first. Did you fall asleep? You’re quite a tomato. You can’t hear me, can you? 
What must I do next? Is there anything I can do at all?



When will I become a great man?

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

LOVE LETTER


Let’s go to the envelope store and buy envelopes
we can drive there from the car store 
where we bought a car

and once we are there we can put the car 
in an envelope

We will have to walk to the stamp store
and then of course the pen store

and finally the address store
if it is raining we will stop by the store 

of a thousand suns 
where it is possible we could

make everything possible
until we can ride 

our bicycles home

Monday, August 18, 2014

MAMBO PARTY


Today seems like a good day for a Mambo Party. But everyone is somewhere else today–how will I contact them in time? The weather is fair, the sun is golden, there is a slight breeze–perfect Mambo weather, although things are dreadful everywhere in Mambo Land. All the more reason to have a Mambo Party! I will have it and serve cake and ice cream and turn on the phonograph and I will say “Get better, world! Get better!” and Mambo. If there is a full moon, we can dance outside, and pray in Spanish for things to get better like they used to do in the Golden Age. Of Mambo. And things got better, and things got worse, and then there was even more Mambo. Then guess what. Our tootsies hurt. And then guess what again. Mambo.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

COMMENTS WITHOUT COSMOS

A littler one from a bit of time ago that is still available at a reasonable price or pretty cheap.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/ricky-garni/comments-without-cosmos/paperback/product-20618513.html

100% of all sales go to animal charities, in honor of Faye Hunter.

JUKEBOX



When somebody showed me a photograph of a jukebox and asked me if I recognized that jukebox I said No, I didn’t recognize that jukebox but I could recognize other jukeboxes. I also didn’t recognize the song that was playing but I knew other songs. I remember a pretty girl and a jukebox, but they were in different places and different times. You are pretty to me for simply asking me this question. You are a pretty girl even when I make you up and I say Here we are now in the same place...with a jukebox and a song in a photograph...

I own a quarter but I often don’t know what to do.

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

FIRST DAY OF ISSUE, LEFT TO RIGHT (A FRAGMENT)


Abraham Lincoln admired the Great Spangled Fritillary which in turned admired the hummingbird which in turn admired Abraham Lincoln who never mentioned his feelings about hummingbirds specifically, although he mostly like would have enjoyed being one.

FRACTIONS BY STELLA (A FRAGMENT)


Stella wrote a pageful of fractions on an orange piece of paper. She wrote 1/2, 1/3, 1/4, 1/5. She wrote 1/2 and 1/3 twice. Stella used a pencil to write the fractions. Stella used a vinculum rather than a solidus to separate the numerator from the denominator. That is to say: Stella wrote this: “/” instead of this: “––”. Why did Stella use the vinculum? Children tend to use the vinculum, while adults tend to use the solidus. By examining this piece of paper,  you can conclude that Stella was a child when she wrote this fractions, due to the vinculum usage...

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