Book o’ Verse

Last night I saw
the best argument
for 6 billion of us.

A musician so talented.

You don't get one so talented

if there are 600 of us.
Or 60 million.

You need really big numbers.

So maybe that''s why.

The hallways smell like paper and scissors and elmer's glue
and parents
roaming around
inspecting the tile

quietly comparing notes
amid sneaker skid
boom.

This is America.
We come here from different countries, from different cultures. 

We speak different languages.

Waiting outside the theater
--dink.
his mother's umbrella opened
accidentally
into the backside
of his buzz-cut head.
--dink.
--dink.

He blinked.
He tightened.

  --dink.

summer midnight
in the city

and
the bridesmaid
just walked past
without her shoes on.

It's a
young man's
game.

Never chew
gum in an
airplane bathroom.
Because if you do
your gum will taste
like an airplane bathroom.

they're chatting
in front of the register
lit softly   by streetlight

and if you only saw
the look on his face

her back   to you

   her hands
on   her hips

     straight black hair
sliding over

     casual
tilt

   you'd never guess 

espresso, green tea.

I mean, seriously.

How much
more
married

can you be?

Trying to cover
the three of us
with one umbrella.

My naked hand out for a cab
full-body soaked as that
car roared by 

and I was wet and cold and pissed.

Then giving up
counting our change
to catch 

Yesterday
I really let him jump on me
let him throw himself into me
like some red-headed salmon
and me the current
his feet slapping the waves.
He was laughing, slap-laughing
and flying, slap-flying.
And then I was the sand… Read on Macduff...