Picture of the Day
yesterday
|
today
|
tomorrow
Tuesday
September 15, 1998
I Am 29
It's so hot tonight--
ides of September,
eve of my 29th birthday--
that the ice I left out
to loosen in the old aluminum tray
has gone back to being water
in less time than it's taken
for me to finish my first scotch.
I've been waiting all year
for something special to happen,
for the prophecy to be fulfilled--
burrito stand in san fancisco,
april '96, when sheryl schlocker,
the one person ahead of me in line
(and no one behind) turned and asked
point blank, What's your sign?
Virgo, i said. Year? 1969.
Ah-ha! she said,
You're a cock, just like I am.
Your crucial turning's the 29th--
that's when everything's aligned.
It's hot again. I sit
on a sofa that isn't mine
in an illegal sublet
on the upper east side.
Tired of waiting for something
to happen I begin to write,
finish my first scotch of the night
and pour another,
with or without ice.
freezerburn
