April 2011
7 posts
4 tags
What if all mornings were warm like today, the light seeping with the dust down the stairs to the basement bedrooms, our slippered feet sweating while we wait for the coffee to finish brewing? I’d spill cold juice to lap off the sun, stunning the bunnies with the sweet twinge. -C.S. Henderson
Apr 30th
4 tags
Don't think
When you chime under the sun sprinkled sky- scrapers, don’t think, blink. Make the rain saturate the cigarettes and sprout bamboo for your office desk. When the trains get later everyday and you ”just can’t take it anymore” for the third time this week, remember you’re not yet forty and your son moves out soon and you can really always just quit if you...
Apr 29th
4 tags
Goofy
The pen was too big to write a poem, the lines ending in unfortunate paces and letters getting mushy like babies eating in their high chairs. -C.S. Henderson
Apr 28th
4 tags
The bird watcher
The hawks of Manhattan scoop along the towers, looking for rats bloated on waste and half-eaten bags of Doritos. From the 23rd floor he becomes incompossibly wild, watching through a tinted window. The city cannot tame all beasts as it watches through a binoculared sun. -C.S. Henderson
Apr 27th
1 note
4 tags
World without you
Clots of hair in the corners of the stairwell, a spider wedged under the sink, dishes stacked to the cupboards, a blackened coffee pot, pictures of another friend holding drinks and you in his arm. Who will kiss the girls for their photos, supply the party with whiskey, wear plaid on every weekend? -C.S. Henderson
Apr 26th
4 tags
Postcard
It’s hard to tell where the mess came from, all the pillars gouged from looters and rain, but there is sun and breeze and some good times available to write — perhaps even coffee when I return. -C.S. Henderson
Apr 26th
2 notes
4 tags
What got you here
Spring came rolling froth in wintry mixed gin drinks and a history of movements across Park avenue. The shafts of air tousle the pages of your book and you’re always throwing greasy paper bits to the track for the rats. When I clutch you at the ribs and brush through your crumbs will you tip- toe to the Brooklyn announcements and eye roll or agree when I ask ‘Shall we take the...
Apr 25th
9 notes