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Blankets of Snow on a Plate of Beef Wellington
she walks bent
over a little bit
on blankets of snow
and she likes to
laugh and she wants to be in love
more than anything else in this world.
her favorite dish is some steak number
i can't pronounce and she wears
a watch from tiffany's
that her father gave her when she was twenty one years old.
she walks bent
over a little bit
on blankets of snow
and she likes to
laugh and she wants to be in love
more than anything else in this world
and she stands by that love or no love and always smiles.
she's the stem that holds up everything beautiful
like her pink toe nails or the tango.
I’m a 32 Year Old Man and You're a 26 Year Old Woman
I told her i'd be doing a reading and she said
she'd be in back with a whoopee cushion. i asked
her if she still packed her panties in ziploc bags
and she told me not to mock it. she turned her
head to cough and i spit on the floor. she told
me it was what it was and i said it was for now.
i grew a beard and she made a face. i waited
patiently and she went to santa barbara without
me. she moved to a new apartment and so did i.
i worked on another book and she got a boyfriend.
she landed a job traveling around the globe and i got
another gig at a cowboy bar. she made fake love
last night while i bagged another whore. she had a cocktail
with friends and i drank 15 belvedere dirty rocks
all by myself. she went to bed at 10:37 and got
up at 5:23 in the morning. i went to bed at
5:23 and got up at 10:37 at night. she kissed him
good bye and didn't cry. i kissed my pillows good
bye and cried a little. she heard silence and i heard her
breathing. she said life is great and i wondered what
the hell was going on. she'd been everywhere once and loved it.
i been everywhere twice and hated it both times.
i looked around nyc and just figured there was no other place to move to.
i told her i would never marry her
and she said there was no future. she said i
would be famous and i turned all our
pictures face down in the apartment. nobody
paid attention to her life. nobody
was reading my shit. i promised my baby i would keep her rolling
and show her the world but she said she didn't want that kind of life anymore.
i promised my baby things.
when i'm looking at undefeatable odds all by myself and
she never was able to understand the writing.
when i'm digging in hotel drawers looking for cash left behind and i close my eyes
all i need is love sometimes.
all i need is love.
Michael Internicola is the author of
three previous novels, KISS ME BABY, SUNFLOWERS!, CHAZ, and ALL OUR SKIES ARE BLUE.
The poems included here are from two separate poetry books,
MALISM and THE DARKEST PLACE IS UNDER A STREETLIGHT, both completed in early 2004. His poems, prose and fiction
have appeared or are forthcoming in Subterranean Quarterly, Tryst3, Half Drunk Muse, Slow Trains, Words Dance,
Poetry Super Highway, Mouseion, Locust Magazine, 63 Channels, Spoken War, Confused In A Deeper Way,
Willow Lake Press, Open Wide Magazine, Edifice Wrecked, Snakeskin, The 2nd Hand, Caffeine Magazine,
Zygote In My Coffee, Remark, Ragged Edge,The Quadrangle, Mule, Spent Meat, The-Hold, Antipatico,
Lunatic Chameleon, Kant Magazine, Subtle Tea, Fragment Magazine, The Surface, The God Particle,
Thieves Jargon, Smokebox, James River Poetry Review and The Mosquito Lounge Review.
He lives in New York City.
Email: Michael Internicola
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