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THE BEAUTIFUL HAVE DECLARED WAR ON THE UGLY
The beautiful have declared war on the ugly. The beautiful have been oppressed for too long; Beauty has been kept from the beautiful. Music has been kept from the song. Do not pity the ugly; pity the...
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FASHION DESIGNERS AGONIZE OVER THESE QUESTIONS
How can we make the Mae West look fashionable again? What’s the secret to dressing short men? What is the perfect pair of underpants? How can stiff clothes add to romance? Fabric or form? What if you...
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J. ALFRED PRUFROCK GRADES PAPERS
Do I dare to give an “F” To my student, Amber Luck, Who does not give a fuck? I’m always out of breath When I lecture them on death, And my eyes trail the floor Discussing poems of amor. Do I suggest...
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WHEN I WAS YOUR SLAVE
When I was your slave, and everything was seen through you, My needs, and my mind, I hardly knew. I studied you, to please you, and I became you, pleasing you, Which pleased me— For some...
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ROBERTO CUPUCCI: FASHION POEM NO. 2
“He [Cupucci] designs as though for an abstract woman, the woman we never meet.” –Alison Adburgham Born in Rome, Roberto Cupucci, More splendid than Cartier, Cardin, or Gucci. Roberto took the dress...
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SINNING
We all do what is right In the middle of the night, Or in the day; we do what is right, As we think and as we calculate; It is right to us—even if we hate— As we feel, and with feeling, calculate....
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BEAUTY IS WRONG
Beauty is wrong For being rare. How can we share If beauties are few? Beauty isn’t fair. I felt terrible loving you: You were rare, and you knew. Beauty changes from what is To what we do In order to...
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THE TENDEREST HEART
A sensitive Plant in a garden grew —Shelley The tenderest heart Loves the tenderest plant! Her heart feels grief If harm should come to the smallest leaf. She is sensitive—beyond belief. Isn’t this...
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A SMALL, HIGH CLOUD
Once love reaches a certain fever pitch, It’s an embarrassment to everybody. Imagination explodes in dirty jokes And life becomes pornography with clothes on. Banal phrases like “doing it” take over...
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MY SECRET BOOK
At the beginning of my book Is an argument which deserves a look. Which do I love best? I believe it is her lips— They sometimes received my finger tips Shyly, as I told her how much I loved them. Her...
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I KNOW HOW SHE IS BEAUTIFUL
I know how she is beautiful, But she doesn’t know. I made her beautiful when I loved her. Love gave her a glow. But where has her beauty gone? Today I saw her, with yet another fashion on. And now I...
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THE POETRY COMMUNITY LOSES ITS MIND
Over the weekend, thanks to Reb Livingston, we became aware of a brewing scandal in the poetry community. Scarriet feels compelled to respond to the ‘anonymous sexual abuse outing document found in...
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WHO SAID LOVE
Who said love is like money? They were right. When you have a lot of it, you keep it out of sight. The only time you spend a lot is when you need to get What someone else can give you—but not quite...
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THE SHY MAN
They don’t know what he’s thinking. He saunters down to where they work And makes it known he wants them In ways they can hardly understand; It’s almost like he wants to kill them, But he wants to...
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YOUR DIVERSITY IS CONFORMITY
The boy raised in a suburb, white, Learns in school his heart is blacker than night, Life is large animals eating small; Not sin, but God’s City, the terrible loss, the terrible fall, He learns, he...
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WHEN MY HATE LOVES
When my hate loves, it is like love, in fact: Love is the feeling, and sex, the desired act. It is not like adding love to cause the hate to sleep So one can make a show of politeness to a creep. It...
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POETRY AS POP CULTURE TRIVIA, OR ANOTHER BULLSHIT NIGHT IN SUCK CITY
I bet you think this poem is about you. Three poets read at the Massachusetts Poetry Festival’s “Headline Event” in Salem on Friday night. By now, it is a truism that contemporary “headline” poets do...
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ANOTHER’S HAPPINESS MAKES YOU SAD
Another’s happiness makes you jealous. And so you understand Why sorrow comforts you, And sorrow comforts the jazz band You love to listen to. You sigh. You know why Sorrow in every song is the best...
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IN CASE YOU DIDN’T KNOW
The hill has water running down its sides Beneath the pansies and forsythia Where the hyacinth bends, and the slender cunning Of the iris no longer hides. Spring is here. There is no more snow. In...
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MY LOVE IS DYING
The fiction writer, to acheive the dark comedy of life, Does best in simple, transparent language to draw that life, Careful not to intrude on that life With fancy language or opinions, letting the...
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