Friday, May 13, 2011

here is a poem from wonderbender i've recently gotten cozy with -- a poem about "projecting"


Boiled in brine. This makes me remember Canada. Five or so of us stood in the parking-lot of a bar outside Vancouver and T said "Are you all right?" and he had that look on his face that people get when they say that really meaning "I know you're not all right because of something I've done but I'm going to try to turn it back on you and make you believe you're acting strangely so that you'll get confused and I'll feel better." I've heard it before. But he had this cellophane bag of white peanuts that were boiled in brine and I'd never seen anything like it. I asked him about it. "Local specialties," he said, still looking at me funny. I'd ignored his question. I'd asked one of my own. These things were not permitted. He put on his strange golfing cap and looked back at me once like an owl and got into his car.

I Don't Pray

I Don't Pray

let me in, let me out

Reading -- March 1