Joseph Reich --
Pillow Talk
Pillow Talk
you are someone
looming
looking to loom
feeding her punchlines
your being
in exchange for
fantasies
the weather is...
raining,
pouring
falls
in the flowers
(the house
the hours...)
perfect day for puzzles & puddles
for writing postcards
(if i had someone,
anyone
to really write to)
for razorblades
& candles
for octopuses
& long-lost bridges
raise you
3 mermaids & 2 buddhas
foghorns
& slashed rainbow
& radio
thugs on tugboats
mugshots &
morning papers
mourning
paper
lichen
miracles
cross-dress
the stray cat & stuffed animals
coyote
at the group home
cub
nibbling branches of 1000 pears
crows
& fallen angels
leftover wild
orchid
whispers...
witch
hazel
(leftover wild
child
cat-calls...
brown
stones
tap shoes hungover
left over stoop)
leftover face in fog of bathroom
at last with no lasting role or identity
brainwash, fugitive cream
seperation-anxiety going down drain
leftover disguises
& defense-mechanisms
leftover damage
& dysfunction
leftover secrets
& skeletons
leftover suicide notes
& love letters
leftover o.c.d. rituals
ghosts, phantoms
promises
& betrayals
prayers & rainy rides on battered bicycle
through prisons & mausoleums
cobblestone
caressing
curfew
candle
french quarter
canal, magazine
toulouse
(having to show up to court
after being harassed by southern cops
who didn't much care for yankees
after being sexually harassed
on historic st. charles
hitchhiking)
the mississippi river
where you spent hour pon hour pon hour pon hour
miss
sippy
river
miss
sippy
river
miss
sippy
river
bandaged
streetcar
with front teeth
knocked out
having strayed,
sailed off course
self-
mutilated
in the fetal-
position
(little black kid attacking
afterschool pal
with pencil)
yet still always managing
to smell the smell
of magnolia
(like frankincense
& mhyr
formaldehyde
at south brooklyn casket)
reborn
in the bronx & coney island
to know beams
from jack-o-lanterns
are the exact same
as skyline of manhattan
leftover chocolate & oranges
& mugs of mad dog & espresso
fried calamari & polenta
on a bed of...
cereal
soup
records you serenaded her to
meatloaf
& porno for pyros
prince
pacobell
sex pistols, the smiths
smashing pumpkins
joni mitchell's
"heijera"
mile's "sketches of spain"
coltrane's "favourite things"
good ol duo
of satchmo & ella
all of bach & shostkovitch
& tchaikovsky your favorite
even though the intellects
(know-it-all idiots)
like to discredit
& call him the least complicated
the one least likely to...
moved by one single note
gustave mahler, concerto #2
gershwin's "rhapsody in blue"
mostly mood most memorably
elevated by a simple pluck
of a string in tune
on an overcast, omniscient
sunday afternoon
with absolutely, thankfully
nothing to do
prying open overgrown trapdoor
to the floor of your soul
which for good reason
closed so long ago
leftover horrorscopes & coats
& streetlamps & ghosts
leftover sheets of blood-stained cum
loose leaves floating through window
of cat-calls & cathedral bells
& foghorns & squals
leftover caravan on the sea
with simply a candelabra in the breeze
sipping at tea
waiting on mail lady
leftover crow on fence
of wild roses
in lush wine fields
in hush of dusk
leftover secrets & silhouettes
in midnight beds & bathtubs
leftover firmament of fog & mist
rippling delicate lawns at dawn
leftover sighs,
cries
wine,
spare ribs on the floor
conch shells & church bells
& sudden nightbirds
the weather is...
raining,
pouring
death,
love
talk
from all those pretty girls you once had
& surely had you
death,
love
talk
from a munchausen mother
& worse off narcissistic pop
death,
love
talk
from parts that haven't been touched
tarts never been plucked
death,
love
talk
from a life of crime
a life of punchlines
the weather is...
raining,
pouring
out in the town of portland,
paris,
montana,
sleepy hollow...
looming
looking to loom
feeding her punchlines
your being
in exchange for
fantasies
the weather is...
raining,
pouring
falls
in the flowers
(the house
the hours...)
perfect day for puzzles & puddles
for writing postcards
(if i had someone,
anyone
to really write to)
for razorblades
& candles
for octopuses
& long-lost bridges
raise you
3 mermaids & 2 buddhas
foghorns
& slashed rainbow
& radio
thugs on tugboats
mugshots &
morning papers
mourning
paper
lichen
miracles
cross-dress
the stray cat & stuffed animals
coyote
at the group home
cub
nibbling branches of 1000 pears
crows
& fallen angels
leftover wild
orchid
whispers...
witch
hazel
(leftover wild
child
cat-calls...
brown
stones
tap shoes hungover
left over stoop)
leftover face in fog of bathroom
at last with no lasting role or identity
brainwash, fugitive cream
seperation-anxiety going down drain
leftover disguises
& defense-mechanisms
leftover damage
& dysfunction
leftover secrets
& skeletons
leftover suicide notes
& love letters
leftover o.c.d. rituals
ghosts, phantoms
promises
& betrayals
prayers & rainy rides on battered bicycle
through prisons & mausoleums
cobblestone
caressing
curfew
candle
french quarter
canal, magazine
toulouse
(having to show up to court
after being harassed by southern cops
who didn't much care for yankees
after being sexually harassed
on historic st. charles
hitchhiking)
the mississippi river
where you spent hour pon hour pon hour pon hour
miss
sippy
river
miss
sippy
river
miss
sippy
river
bandaged
streetcar
with front teeth
knocked out
having strayed,
sailed off course
self-
mutilated
in the fetal-
position
(little black kid attacking
afterschool pal
with pencil)
yet still always managing
to smell the smell
of magnolia
(like frankincense
& mhyr
formaldehyde
at south brooklyn casket)
reborn
in the bronx & coney island
to know beams
from jack-o-lanterns
are the exact same
as skyline of manhattan
leftover chocolate & oranges
& mugs of mad dog & espresso
fried calamari & polenta
on a bed of...
cereal
soup
records you serenaded her to
meatloaf
& porno for pyros
prince
pacobell
sex pistols, the smiths
smashing pumpkins
joni mitchell's
"heijera"
mile's "sketches of spain"
coltrane's "favourite things"
good ol duo
of satchmo & ella
all of bach & shostkovitch
& tchaikovsky your favorite
even though the intellects
(know-it-all idiots)
like to discredit
& call him the least complicated
the one least likely to...
moved by one single note
gustave mahler, concerto #2
gershwin's "rhapsody in blue"
mostly mood most memorably
elevated by a simple pluck
of a string in tune
on an overcast, omniscient
sunday afternoon
with absolutely, thankfully
nothing to do
prying open overgrown trapdoor
to the floor of your soul
which for good reason
closed so long ago
leftover horrorscopes & coats
& streetlamps & ghosts
leftover sheets of blood-stained cum
loose leaves floating through window
of cat-calls & cathedral bells
& foghorns & squals
leftover caravan on the sea
with simply a candelabra in the breeze
sipping at tea
waiting on mail lady
leftover crow on fence
of wild roses
in lush wine fields
in hush of dusk
leftover secrets & silhouettes
in midnight beds & bathtubs
leftover firmament of fog & mist
rippling delicate lawns at dawn
leftover sighs,
cries
wine,
spare ribs on the floor
conch shells & church bells
& sudden nightbirds
the weather is...
raining,
pouring
death,
love
talk
from all those pretty girls you once had
& surely had you
death,
love
talk
from a munchausen mother
& worse off narcissistic pop
death,
love
talk
from parts that haven't been touched
tarts never been plucked
death,
love
talk
from a life of crime
a life of punchlines
the weather is...
raining,
pouring
out in the town of portland,
paris,
montana,
sleepy hollow...
| Top Photo-- "Coney Island beach and boardwalk scenes" Strobridge & Co. Lith. Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, [reproduction number, LC-USZ62-21467A] |
