New York City. It's big. The big buildings throw punches at you while you're walking down the street. You have to avoid them, the punches. Last time I was in New York I listened to Vampire Weekend's latest album over and over. It's a good new york album. Now, my life is simple. I'm no longer in new york and maybe I miss the buildings a little. But I'm listening to Vampire Weekend so I'm going to write a poem. hehehe.
the salty dog grabbed the waitress
and went for broke
exchanging his coinage (pennies) for her snatch
wealth.
I can't take it! I can't take it! she cried
and tears came like watermelon seeds
and I'm a happy teddy bear.
now we sit along the wall and watch the
facebook
open and close open and close open and close
sixteen figurines and a salty roof
mansard bastard and watermelon, too.
the beat box 80's rap star's wife's girlfriend
calls me on her cell phone
"it's ee and i'm cumming!!!"
"oh shit i'll be right over!"
"don't bother. the damage is done."
inside the moma i see a klee and a honeybee
and a klee and a payyyyyyphone.
keep me captured she calls over the wire, through the can of tomato soup
mr. brainwash original
on the wall of the pristine palace of new commodities
rage against the artwallinfectednothing
mason commercials mediated psychologists open heart
surgery
climb the pole
feel the role
roll the scroll
read the bible
open the cabinet
smoke the smell
torah time open wine modern catapult your feelings into excess away from loving tender comfort
sleeeeeeeeeeep!!!!
but gosh. it's got to be better than this right?
that's the end of my poem.
much love,
Anthony
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