BY THE SPECTATOR โ John Maloney โAll or Nothing at Allโ โ What the IRS sings to us taxpayers. โHome on the Rangeโ โ Housewife who doesnโt go out to work. โItโs a Sin to Tell a Lieโ โ Anyone in Washington DC โItโs DeโLovelyโ โ Tax refund check arrives. โSomebody Else is Taking My […]
too much coffee focus out the booze too many lonely nights make love blues– late conversation verses dreamland smash foggy head trip early morning crash– how much devotion to all those wasted days how many more times to emerge from the haze–
BY DONALD R. SIEGEL Prophets still walk the avenues of yesterday guiding the tourists through hidden passages under the Western Wall to Solomon’s treasures and the freshest water in Herod’s pool. Even though it is warm a cold swear envelops me as I walk in their footsteps. I can feel the energy of David the […]
BY HARRY WAITZMAN I discover groves of sunlight in my white clapboard hamlet. The pale Victorian homes look as if they were peeled from picture postcards and pasted on tidy lawns. Garage doors open and Irish cops and fireman fly to the Bronx to put down flames and mayhem. Iโm conned by rust railroad tracks […]
BY HARRY WAITZMAN My poetry is pumped up by smog and mercury, the lines stretch like knotted rubber bands. I wish there was more horseradish in my life, instead of sugar-coated Cheerios. Corn syrup thins my blood. Salt and pepper preserve my tongue. Honest decay, skunk stink tosses my breath. I feel faint, but stench […]
BY HARRY WAITZMAN My sledgehammer tongue whacks the world, one, two, three, two times a day, evening and morning, my eyes paint the world green three times a day every morning. No reason, each day gives us chances, you win some and lose some, so I would butt like a billie goat and piss on […]