Postcards

Postcards

Postcards

A Poem by C. Alexander

We were so tired in Boston

that we had a beer

with dinner and went to sleep

at 9:30,

it was beautiful.

 

How the fuck did we end up at Walden Pond?

Thoreau has become a gift

shop. I snuck a kiss

in Emerson’s lended kitchen.

 

New York City

Timesquarepanicattack

We posed with imaginary twin towers,

thought about Bush reading

photo-ops to children

 

In Florida we saw an osprey, it’s claws

gouging a fish that was too big

to carry. The bird tried to take the prize home,

but sometimes even the best fish die

in the sand, and people like to watch.

The Undersell

The Undersell

Love, Simon and the Power of Representation

Love, Simon and the Power of Representation