|
"for sale: baby shoes, never worn"
a brief remark to miami's flotsam and jetsam. andres talks to the city. animal husbandry for the fairer species. break ups and sweet revenge. elvis costello and the first girl i thought i loved. five hundred miles apart we've lived. i force poetry. instead, kneel. the divorce. the importance of circumstance, date, and time. the nuptial hour. the stench of reconciliation. the threeness of things. the threeness of things (II). the way the world is spent. why they used to preach in latin. you kiss with childish desperation. 2007 2006 2005 home |
|
Names don�t stick with me Quite half as much as faces, Not after rose ice-cream And twenty-three dollar cars. The first girl I thought I might be in love with, Her name was Michelley, And she had a Cuban body and feline eyes, And we kissed just once, to call a bluff, And I realized I wasn�t in love with her, After all. I believe in Elvis Costello glasses And muscular dystrophy, Amongst other ailments. You never used to be this beautiful, You never used to be this way, You were childish, And barely whole, You�d made a mess of yourself. Sometimes I think Poetry just doesn�t work for me anymore. |