New York (Sweet and Sour Sauce)
I (Asian girl) was eating pasta with a dancer (Asian girl) last night
in front of the Asian-American tirade. She quoted a book of
144,000 blank pages and she said, sometimes do you feel crazy? I
was biting off my chicken. I said let’s go through an exercise.
Someone is sleeping very peacefully in a bed next to you.
Who is this person?
A sculptor (from LA he said just visiting) listened to us. He said
I’m working on a 50ft. bamboo thing. He said you should
come by.
Paloma’s Light Journal, June 6th
What will you do if I am $11.92, a coffer of brilliant hair?
I set my lands in order, behold, I reinvent.
In the kitchen they are looking for coals. “Morning,” she says.
To find the ruby of a man set in. The status of a man. Breeze of a fish.
Freeform. Indelicate.
Speak to us of the radiantstone. Regularly there is the call
of flutes redolent, whip-like.
How do you rise up in the assembly of people dribbled together for quiescence.
How to interrupt the meter of their foreheads and yours glinting in the branching glass.
Come back to me, here, under the red pepper lights.
