Saturday, January 23, 2016
Winter Tale
Jammy
didn’t know how to say goodbye.
The name had stuck from childhood, something
to do with pajamas.
One drunken night we taught him exit lines on
the order of Well, gotta get going. I’m already
in trouble with Cynthia, Belle, Brennan, Ruth etc.
...few more reasons of that imaginative ilk.
“But you guys don’t understand. I’m so ferociously lonely!”
We pretended not to. Pushed him out the door into a wind
of slanting ice.
Resumed.
Labels: drunk, exit line, friends, gregarious, ice, loneliness, pajamas, snow, talkative, wind, winter
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Plenty of Nice Nazi Picnics Around Auschwitz
where everybody had a perfect-
ly lovely time with the wind
favorable. Half of life consists
of getting the wind right.
