Wednesday, November 07, 2012

NEW! Poem by Curtis D'Costa

Curtis D’Costa


Salmon; blue; yellow; repeat.
Then our strategic objectives shifted.
Umbrellas unfurled, fork chimed,
and the Dumpster stench
characteristic of seafood queso
staggered among tables and chairs.

This woman entering the café
blew her arm off at the elbow
lighting fireworks.

Corralling her heel with his ankle, this girl’s 
date shows her, with a twist of his knife,
the polite way to juice a lime.

“All the Girls are like, You Can't Multitask.
I'm like, Damn Fucking Right: That's why I, I
Focus and you have to Do a Bunch of Shit.
I I I offer, and and you can't even figure out
What You Want for Breakfast.  I'm like . . .”

She picks the bacon
from her teeth with a hairpin, far away,
heart bent on another,
the one who has rhythm and a full-time job,
the one who

The rain keeps pouring down; it won't even cool us off.

I had no idea turbulence could shake a plane so hard

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thanks I enjoyed this although I didn't really understand what was going on.