One Spring

An older woman on the 4-hour bus to Boston,
(we shared a smoke back in Albany)
shrieks softly and scrambles to the bathroom
at the back of the bus, swelling with a damp red blush,
brushes by passengers through the tight aisle squeeze.
Shit and Marlboro as she passes.
Poor woman. Poor bus.

In the meantime...

Chill on this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EGJuxe2c0M

ATTENTION FOLLOWERS!

I want to start using this blog more regularly. I am thinking about writing a novel and posting chapter installments on this. Any thoughts? Anybody even out there?! Or I am contemplating just posting some short pop-cultural critiques. Haven't completely decided. But a poetry trilogy debut is soon come out! I will update with details hopefully sooner than you can say 'bob's your uncle!'

Cheers,
cgs

looks like grass from here

the radio plays an oldie, a sweat and firework summer
hydrocodone behind the beer shack, kissing barefoot
leaving tracks like the veins of an addict, wallowed in the grass
i hear only water, feel only ground, dissolve like sand
in the swirling pit of this giant basin, i'm heavy.
I'm heavy like depression, weightless like a lie,
sharp as the corners of a word never removed
from a circular conversation, record-like, jazz
without the sax, swoons without the heat,
an empty note, like a three dollar bottle of wine.
yeah, heavy heavy. loose in arkansas,
down by the crooked crag shoreline.
awful entries, notebook stilettos,
city bimbo lipstick drags all teethmarks and smallpox
left her name on the worn out leather.