archives for Thursday 3 April 2008
I’m worth a million in prizes
Thursday 3 April 2008 | 6 cookies in the jar
I came to work today, and I taught the surly bored class, on two hours’ sleep.
Mostly I was able to perform this miracle because the Brujo gave me a ride to school and even managed to crack me up, first by unexpectedly, meditatively singing the chorus of ”Springtime for Hitler” and then by doing an impression of Gene Wilder moaning, “No way […]
read ‘I’m worth a million in prizes’
her voice woke me at 2 a.m. (segment of long project for whitman’s workshop)
Thursday 3 April 2008 | I like a cookie
I had not known that death would work in me
its tide pulling
as deeply as life had done
wanting food, wanting
mouths at my breast
that it would have a surging lust
as for a lover
after my girls were grown
sometimes in the bathroom with nightgown
pulled up around my neck
I could still press thick buttery droplets
from my nipples
the desires of life […]
read ‘her voice woke me at 2 a.m. (segment of long project for whitman’s workshop)’
