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Showing posts from November, 2007

I am an American

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At the Top of the Food Chain but the Bottom of the Line
by Judith Pordon

I am an American.
I rush to be before the bullet,
as I push air out of my way.
I snap commands, advice
without request, involuntarily.
I wait only briefly for anything.
I comb my hair without looking,
as fast as possible, then
can’t understand why my
strands are haphazard.
I brush past, my goal in sight,
but you, who are you?

I am an averter.
My eyes have never touched
anyone. I will rush to my grave
and even in the tomb
will be pissed, for everything
I didn’t get to finish.

I am an American. I pledge allegiance
to the clock, to productivity, to the bottom line.

Wedding

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by Alice Oswald


From time to time our love is like a sail
and when the sail begins to alternate
from tack to tack, it’s like a swallowtail
and when the swallow flies it’s like a coat;
and if the coat is yours, it has a tear
like a wide mouth and when the mouth begins
to draw the wind, it’s like a trumpeter
and when the trumpet blows, it blows like millions....
and this, my love, when millions come and go
beyond the need of us, is like a trick;
and when the trick begins, it’s like a toe
tip-toeing on a rope, which is like luck;
and when the luck begins, it’s like a wedding,
which is like love, which is like everything.


poem on a paper bag

This poem was found written on a paper bag by Richard Brautigan in a Laundromat in San Francisco. The author is unknown.


By accident, you put
Your money in my
Machine (#4)
By accident, I put
My money in another
Machine (#6)
On purpose, I put
Your clothes in the
Empty machine full
Of water and no
Clothes

It was lonely.