Double-wide strips with space between held back the straining herd. By the strength of bunched lines they shoved. Snorting, stomping, chewing wads of pink cud with lips ajar. Swaying with complaints. Haggling to be first, or next. Anywhere, at least, in front of last. Swollen packs strayed by the trail. A few lame books. Then … Continue reading
A small crowd was gathered at the entrance of the Strand the night I went to sell my books. Word circulated that the store was closed so that Michael Jackson could shop alone for children’s books adding to the buzz. It began to drizzle but people stayed on their toes to peer over the window … Continue reading
He tells his barber to cut his hair like Steve McQueen: A little off the top, longer on the sides. It’s been one close shave after another —the jungles of Nicaragua and a scar the length of his forearm. Some Sandinista machete, he said, but the USMC medic stitched him. Then the six incher vertical … Continue reading
I lit another cigarette. Couldn’t think of anything else to do. Juliet stopped eating carrots to say, “That stuff will kill you,” It was tough trying to live with a woman that good. Last I heard she was saving India and Africa was next. I wrote her a letter that said I’d changed my ways, … Continue reading
My father’s voice sounds Like a car without a muffler. He is reading me poems, Poems about me. I think about when I was ten years old, When at 11:00 one night, I stood at the edge of our diving board, Waiting for him to request a dive, The air was chilly, And the board … Continue reading
I remember my grandfather With his red robe, Creased pajamas underneath, Budweiser in a Texas cooler. He would ask me to spell aardvark Even when he wasn’t remembering things so well. “How the hell did you know How to spell aardvark?” “You told me!” We were in the kitchen. It was hot. Grandma was baking … Continue reading
I wish that my favorite cousin had not grown from a kid whose gap-toothed grin even Ritalin could not tame into a teenager who toughly hides his smile in pictures. I wish my friend did not let boys (or men) control her life in back rooms of drunken parties, on blanket-laid football fields, or in … Continue reading
Ed Sullivan Theater, 1964 I wanted to be a singing cowboy, you know. Got chills when Gene Autry threw his leg over the saddle burn and sang: South of the border, down Mexico way… I walked tough, talked tougher, carried a razor blade behind the lapel of my Teddyboy suit in case I got grabbed. That … Continue reading
I wonder if in the end We are simply talked to death – Our minds filled like septic tanks With comments about our lawn, Our neighbors, life on TV, Our new snow tires, our I-pod, How much a Caribbean Cruise costs, whether to buy brats Or ribs for the tailgater, & what about the weather? … Continue reading
attention tenured historians, the public wearies of your improbable power fantasies and dreary morality plays. skip the mongol invasions and hutterite genealogies and find room in your textbooks for the following: the first cigarette, the last hotel room, dorothee’s footprints in the snow, her favorite pyjamas, the lost toys of kindergarten, the ideal that begat … Continue reading
Coe Review 