New York City skyline at night




eve packer

Ya Gotta Be Ready

4/19: mad tiny

they call you, and you like it
i tell them
i am at fashion industries h.s. & i am not in bklyn
a true statement
i am in the hippos paw or
i am blue a true
i am in china a false closed statement
i am going to take a shower and
have dinner or not think
t for true
i am going to stop typing
or cry
a true disjunction



for n.j.h.

one minute youre
one minute
one minute blue sky
the next  gone

you left me then
at summers end
i salute you aries

right now, this very sec,
we are up in the room
with a


october 16

summer, surly lover,
surely over, you are
not. winters in, my skin


cupid, that was
a nasty trick—
shooting an arrow
laced w/arsenic & blood
thru my lovers heart,
brain—now what??


nothing is worse,
you said, at that first
halloween ball, as we turn
a corner downstairs, than
someone just leaving,


oh, says vincent,
helping me put
the newly clean oriental rug
on the bedroom floor,
you miss him


i can hear you,
on recorded tape, my cell, landline machine,
on lots of cd's old & new,
but never can you say, once more,
the way you did the last time
we talk: i just wanted
to hear your voice—


on a treat, take a taxi
up 10th ave for a (short)
2nd swim—the driver
late—its after 5—
8.20 the fare—i give 10, say: hope you get
where you need to/go



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