I've spent the morning with Richard Siken. not the person. he's in Tucson. but the poet. the one who left a parcel of poems dripping blood on my bed. the book is calld Crush. I don't think I've ever read a book of poems straight thru before. I feel like I'm sticky & heading to the shower after hours of sex.
I just finishd the book & took off my clothes. I slippd on the boxers I'd slippd off Jimmy at the Sunburst Inn in Phoenix. I know Phoenix isn't Tucson but Arizona is Arizona. & sun bursting on boys works for me.
so I'm sitting here in Jimmy's boxers. I feel I need to examine my flesh for bruises. Crush is a punch. the poems are dangerous. I want to go back immediately & study them but I'm too much enjoying the afterglow. I guess this is the moment in film noir where the couple props up on pillows with cigarets. but I'm alone & don't smoke. so I'll slip off Jimmy's boxers & jump into the shower.
4 comments:
I can't believe you're falling for "Yale" boys with bad-boy habits; now if you would just get this CD (with enough cry-me-a-river-over-lost-boymale-love for at least a year's worth of aesthetic ecstacy) you will be a Real Cowboy Singing the Beat Me Daddy Blues ! Whew!
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000BEZQ18/qid%3D1131467938/sr%3D11-1/ref%3Dsr%5F11%5F1/102-0115347-9647303
PS: it's got a Rufus Wainwright/Teddy Thompson up and ready for fun Duet; a Great Teddy Thompson song called: I don't want to say goodbye; and a Rufus mystical heartbreaker called The Maker --- when you hear Gustavo Santaolalla's strings and guitars you're Guaranteed! to weep like a little girl and feel great about it.
this is exactly how I feel after reading Sandra Cisneros' Loose Woman collection
I love that book. You've really captured it.
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