Thursday, March 31, 2011

THE SECOND BEST PART OF MY DAY SO FAR

After sipping leisurely on a minty absinthe, Tarzan accepted the bet and flew into the jungle to kill a lion with nothing more than a rope and a knife, attired in a simple loincloth.

THE BEST PART OF MY DAY

It was at this point that Tarzan went to the Police Station in Paris to have his fingerprints taken to see whether or not it was true that he was indeed Lord Greystoke. It was his friend's idea. He was a good friend and he taught Tarzan French.

MY FAVORITE THREAT

Looking for the love letter
I found the letter about mulch

If you do not want your unit mulched
please send me a note by Friday

but by then I will buy a pair of paper wings

but by then I will be gone

PROBABLY NOT THE COVER FOR MARCH

WHY IS IT THAT GENTLEMEN DO NOT PREFER YOU?


She said: I do.

I said: I do, too.

BENEATH THE VEIL


If there is a secret to the bow tie, I’ve got it.
Baby, I’ve got it. But the older you get,
the more you realize, there is no secret
to the bow tie, and Baby, you’ve got it.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

A KISS IS JUST A KISS


Is Nilsson Nissan?
No. Nissan is Japanese.
Nilsson is Swedish.

Nilsson’s family were circus
acrobats. Nilsson was a poor
child. So poor. Nilsson ate cat food.

Nissan used to say I am Datsun.
And then Watch me hug the road.
And Nissan hugged the road.

Nilsson had the voice of an angel.
He liked to kiss many girls and
Nilsson then met Una.

Nissan only spoke when spoken to.

Nilsson said to Una: How can I prove
the seriousness of my intent?

I don’t know, Una said. I like melons
I like honeydew melons. And

Nilsson bought Una honeydew melons.
Uma smiled. Will you marry me? Nilsson

said. Una said Sure. Nilsson was serious. 
Una, serious. Datsun seriously said: We 

must recall these brakes. Nilsson said: You 
Must Remember This. Uma kissed Nilsson

Goodbye. Goodbye Una, Nilsson said.
I will remember you, said Uma.
Head held low, Darn it, Nissan said, 
Heck, said Nissan. Recall, Recall.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

DON'T WORRY

Don't worry.This isn't a real tobacco leaf.




THIS is a real tobacco leaf.




I'm sorry. That probably didn't help, did it?

THE SIZE OF A HAT FOR THE WORLD: 1,2,3

THE SIZE OF A HAT FOR THE WORLD pt. 1

I wish the world would just pretend
for one day that it wasn’t icy and cold.
I mean real ice and real cold.

I don’t care about the inner man.
Speaking of outer man, I once
walked down the street wearing
a fedora.

A fedora!

That has to be harder than pretending
you are not icy and cold.

Look at the size of the world
and then look at the size of me.

I would like to see the world
walking down the street in a fedora.

A fedora is a men's felt hat that is creased
lengthwise down the crown and pinched
in the front on both sides.

**

THE SIZE OF A HAT FOR THE WORLD pt. 2

I am imagining what it would be like to take
the world into a hat shop and ask for a hat.

My hat size is 7 & 5/8.

The portly fellow with the tape measure
looks carefully at the tape measure
considers it for a moment and then says:

I think we are looking at a: 4,7,450,
835,455 & 3/4 size hat here.

He speaks with authority.

This isn’t his first hat.

**

THE SIZE OF A HAT FOR THE WORLD pt. 3

The world walks down the street feeling jaunty
in its new fedora.

A little boy points at the world with his finger.
His finger has a soupçon of mucus upon it.

He laughs and his Mommy says SHUSH
and they hurry away.

Into the waste basket goes the fedora, atop
the sardine tins and cigarettes.

Who am I trying to kid? says the world.

DID YOU MEAN POMPOUS?

Pomous: no dictionary definition.

Did you mean Pompous?

Irritate your pomous boyfriend.

Daniel Orkent is/was a pomous ass.

Pomous cat is pompous!

Are you ready, Steve. Yeah. Andy? Ah-ha. Nick? Okay. Well alright!

The Pomo US Mesh Hats from Zazzle.

24 hour shipping on most orders.

Did you mean pompously?

Saturday, March 19, 2011

MIDDLEMARCH!


Borges once began a sentence like this: MIDDLEMARCH!

I didn’t have time to read the whole interview and so I was happy to think that this was just the way he liked to start sentences, like some people who say “Uh, well” or “Hmmm.” Borges was blind, I mean, I am not telling you anything you don’t already know here, but still, I had another idea, that people who are blind just have to occasionally make a big statement, like MIDDLEMARCH!, so they can sort of claim the territory of the conversation and people will stop and listen. It is really a bold move when you think about it, because people who have read Middlemarch realize what an extraordinary universe it is, and how George Eliot has produced a world in which the whole universe is one living thing, and how there is a kinship between things that seem far off and by the end are all interwoven, and so, once you have startled people by saying MIDDLEMARCH! you have really raised the stakes on the tenor of the conversation, because people automatically are thinking about a world in which there is a kinship between things that seem far off and by the end are all interwoven, which was Borges’ point, really, anyway because I read the rest of the article interview later that day and this is exactly what he said:

INTERVIEWER: What do you think there is?

BORGES: MIDDLEMARCH!

INTERVIEWER: Pardon?

BORGES: (annoyed) I think there is a kinship between things.

It was silly to think that Borges liked to start off sentences like this: MIDDLEMARCH!. Nobody would want to do that. He likes to say things like “Uh, well” or “Hmmm.” After all, Borges was just like us. People, after all, are normal. And connected. Borges is connected, for example, to this thing here. There is a kinship between things that seem far off, and perhaps will be for a long time, but in the end, all things are interwoven, like this:

LYDIA, PART TWO

HOW? SIMPLE

Whenever I want to write something new and interesting,
I pick up a story by Lydia Davis and use all the words in
my story that she didn’t use in her story. For instance,
where she uses “she” I use “Cortes.” Where she uses
“divorce” I use “rumpus” or “jumping from a rock, right
onto a stagecoach.” Sometimes people read my stories
and say, “they’re something familiar about these stories”
and I say Yes, there is, and lo, I am the mighty Spanish
conquistador who has mastered yet another race that
isn’t his, much to my shame.

LYDIA PART ONE

If Lydia Davis thinks the distance from New York to London
is 15,000 miles, then so do I. Still, the distance between
London and New York is a much more reasonable 3,471
miles. This is why most people who want to vacation travel
from London to New York rather than New York to London.
Even the wind does not help in this case, as it generally travels
from South to North, which is why so many people in America
like to take vacations in the North Pole, and why so many
Americans are often stranded in the North Pole. People even,
you know, die in the North Pole, because the wind is so ferocious
and how can you possibly tell until it is again’ you until you decide
to go back home and you discover that it is again' you. And it is most
terrible when people from London die in the North Pole, thinking
that they could have just vacationed in New York, which
is so much closer and less windy than the North Pole with
so very many more things to do. People from New York, however,
are generally happy and never die. London is too far away for a
real vacation, the North Pole they realize is far too windy for a nice
vacation, and they have become accustomed to having vacations in
their minds to places that are so beautiful that it is almost impossible
to think about or even pronounce their names, and this is what makes
them immortal.

ONE MUSKETEER

Could life be more perfect than this
I thought as I ate a 3 Musketeer Bar
on a rainy day outside a junkyard
in downtown Miami in 1983? It
would be better if I could just do
this thing right here as a real
musketeer, any of the three
would be fine, it would just have
to be a real one who liked fluffy
egg whites that you can whip
with a saber in a small silver
bowl while kissing a woman
in a bodice with a big tasty
smacking sound of the lips
like this: SOUND OF LIPS
TOUCHING MORE LIPS.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

SO WHAT? IT’S WEDNESDAY

Every Thursday I say to myself that I must go and buy new clothes because I hardly have anything to wear.

Every Friday I walk down the block to the laundromat and wash all my clothes and every

Saturday I feel like a new man well dressed and happy. I think that Heaven must be just like

Saturday morning and the birds are singing and you smell like soap and Hell

Is Thursday and they say it’s going to rain again, like all day long and you say So What.

THE DEPRESSION OF FLAMINGOS


One thousand men stand in line waiting for a job to paint picture postcards. This is a story that I am making up, but it has to be true. Look at how terrible the Depression was. Think of how desperate people were to get jobs. It’s really easy to find beautiful postcards of flamingos in Florida in 1932 and the Carlyle Hotel in 1938. They are works of genius. The flamingo burns with a red hot flame. Would you go to the Carlyle Hotel? I would go to the Carlyle Hotel. There’s an alligator in sunny Florida. I would love to own them. I would love to own them all. I would love to learn how to paint this familiar flamingo but how can that happen? I tell you: one thousand men stand in line waiting for a job. What is the job? The job is to paint picture postcards of the world just like the one that you would like to be holding right now. An alligator suns himself on a rock in the Everglades. The Carlyle is fancy. What are you waiting for? You must hurry. Flamingos are burning.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

DUSTY IN MEMPHIS


On the cover of DUSTY IN MEMPHIS,
Dusty Springfield is covering her face
in surprise. She is surprised that we
didn’t realize how wonderful this
album would be. But we were so
young, so terribly young, how would
we know? Dusty holds out one hand
so that you might kiss it. “I forgive
you,” she says quietly. With the other
hand, she covers her face as well as
she can with one hand. She doesn’t
want you to forget how surprised
she was that you didn’t realize how
wonderful some things can be. Some
things not like Dusty when she is in
Memphis, but “Dusty in Memphis.”

OK. True. Smiles. Smiling. Both
hands over the face. “Please,”
she now says, “take my picture now.”

Update

In my world, Tarzan is about to leave the jungle and discover hairless white apes like himself. This could end poorly. I will keep you posted.
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