One Hundredth Entry

WOW! I've written a hundred poems since I started this blog in (insert correct date here.) And not only that, I've written who knows how many very dreadful poems? I usually put up incomplete or imperfect first drafts, but some things are too bad to even be shown to people. Also, I got a fair distance into a novel which I have shelved for the time being. Okay, okay, only fifty pages. Still, I'm writing a lot, huh? I'm gonna celebrate by drinking. At Danielle Ilyana Ben-Veniste's birthday party. Anyway, it makes me feel like I'm starting out strong this month, and since I'm attempting to put most of what you'll be seeing this month into a manuscript, I'm glad to see the poems a'piling up.

Don't forget the DICK PIG REVIEW at Galapagos this Sunday.

And then I'll be reading at the 440 Gallery on the 15th.

Here's my poem:

PILLOW

It takes time for appliances to come on, first
you press the button and then they hum. While I'm
sleeping in the basement, why don't you let that record
play? I nuzzled with warm coils, reading my submarine
books, why can't I be the leader of a certain adventure?
I'm constantly deferring to things and to people.
This is my first day of school. Everybody's leaving
my records out in the sun, or dripping the remnants
of their meals onto my clothes while I'm outside,
arguing on the phone with one of my mothers.

Everybody's leaving. I was dressed to impress
but it didn't impress and I couldn't talk
to any of the party-goers. I opened myself
to you with a fork from the kitchen, we looked
and we looked but there was no sign of life
and the case was eventually left unsolved.
What a funny kid I turned out to know, the kind
who balls his fists at the chess table and smiles
at the bar fight. I'm the sheriff of this town now,
and I'll be with you in a minute.