Category: Poetry
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Ode to the New York Subway
I wrote a long and totally over-the-top poetic ode to the New York subway system, you guys. It’s on Luna Luna Magazine. I kind of love it in the way I also love watching Interview with the Vampire. It’s filthy and there’s way too much lace, but damn. It tastes so good. A lil’ nibblet:…
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Linksalot
Links, links, so many links, it’s Sir Linksalot up in here! (Okay there are only two links.) 1) Hollywood, seriously. Really. You cast an actress to play Linda Lovelace who, in an interview with GQ, says about the movie Deep Throat, “There’s no point in watching the whole movie. It’s the same shit for an…
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I’m in the Wall Street Journal?!
I bet, if you were to make a list of all the people you could think of, in order of most- to least-likely-to-ever-be-pictured in The Wall Street Journal, I would be near the bottom. Right? I’d be near the bottom of my own list. Except maybe for some of the people I knew in college…
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A selfie of me, poetry-ing…
…at the 3rd annual NYC Poetry Festival over the weekend. I think this is possibly my best selfie to date! I spent my day at the festival doing readings in a little Poetry Brothel tent full of lace and beads and weirdness on Governor’s Island. I wore a corset and a lot of jewelry and…
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Attention, Everyone!
Two announcements to draw attention to things I’ve done or am doing! Self-promotion! Hey, it’s my website. I do what I want! 1) I published a short essay at LUNA LUNA Mag called “The Mouth Breather.” This is the first installment of my once-a-month column on commuting via public transportation in NYC. I have a…
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Patasola’s Parlor
Last night I read about ten minutes of poetry at Patasola’s Parlor, a monthly reading and performance series coproduced by Lisa Marie Basile and Emily Linstrom, two powerhouse NYC poets for whom I’ve had immense respect for ages. I’ve participated in The Poetry Brothel with LMB for a while now, and have never once failed…
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A Litany for Survival
I can’t believe I’ve never read this before. Mind = blown. For those of us who live at the shoreline standing upon the constant edges of decision crucial and alone for those of us who cannot indulge the passing dreams of choice who love in doorways coming and going in the hours between dawns looking…
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Thirsty
Thirsty I cannot get enough water in me. I am forever melting things: Drenching your hands until they slide away, I shiver down your torso into a puddle, Panting and parched. I am now dripping droplets all day without you, Slowly; Greedily, I gulp under the showerhead; Duck furtively to lap from the faucet; Arch…
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Husk
Rub your spine against me To scrape off the old skin. Press a thumb to the underside of the Square corner of my jaw. Remind me what life is And where the throbbing stars lie in the heavens. Each vertebra you grind into my knuckles Is a wish for later years. A whistle…
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From the NYC Poetry Festival…
Shenanigans!