the rivers of it, abridged

New York City skyline at night


Fall 2008



Jill Hoffman

for Brian Buczak

Smoking grass is my hobby.
But slowly my hobby became my whole job.
When we met
you had just been to Geoff's mother's funeral,
but no one let on
how everyday was one.
I loved your red painting with the blank
pages, 1980, 1981, when John
Lennon was assassinated.
All the sidewalks in New York were red.
I thought it was my blood.
I don't like idle writing.
I have to go through every paper in this house.
All around me I see the de-emphasization of sex.
Funerals and a bier bearing briars.


Lady's Menu

All the difficult courses on the left; on the right
poetry instead of the prices.
Little descriptions, in calligraphy.

Now one has so little money in one's bank account
shivering there in the brass pocket of night

What it used to be to be a woman
Before used to be married never.



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