On a quiet Cobble Hill afternoon,
the season's first nice Saturday, I sit inside
at a window smoking
and drinking Diet Coke, outlooking onto
the brown brick building set below bright
blue sky, framed by the window
two rectangles, one above the other, seamless,
like a real-life Rothko.
A bumblebee, dronelike, is surveying me.
Against the blue he -- the bee --
is black, shadowed, shorn
of his yellow.
Earlier I was napping.
Earlier I was listening to Sky Blue Sky.
Earlier than that I was in the city.
The brown building's now lightening,
in response to what the sun does daily,
sinking off west.
The bee has buzzed off.
My cigarette's done and now a noise
of cars somewhere, the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway,
gently, like a white apartment curtain fluttered
by summer wind,
breaks my reverie.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
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3 comments:
Again, awesome. I'm actually really excited for when you do get published - I think everyone who knows you has disregarded the "if" and moved right on to waiting for "when."
I think you, myself, and Jacob should publish something together. We can be like the Bronte sisters - we'll call our book Brontesaurus, which will be clever in three ways:
1. It begins with the word "bro"
2. There were three Bronte sisters
3. All of us combined will form an enormous literary dinosaur, the likes of which have never been seen.
LOVE,
scram
Most excellent...and the use of the cigarette was just to make a point right? Because you quit smoking as I recall.
Good call Joe. I remember that too, I think the smoke must've found him.
Good call to you too Scrunt. I like all aspects of your idea.
By the way the Brontosaurus is the most excellent dinosaur. I've always said that if I could create a new animal it would be a tiny puppy-sized brontosaurus.
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