King David Realty, Brooklyn



There is a sweat factor of ten out there this week. New York is as thick as lard.
My son sweats buckets like his godfather. I sweat a lot, but somehow not as much as those two. My wife doesn't sweat at all. And if she does, it seems unlike sweat, rather like a fine cool mist off the heathery slopes yon.

4 comments:

Anna E. Bush said...

Just last night I took a long walk up Santa Barbara street all the way to the end and then around the block and down Garden back to our apartment. I thought about how fresh the air was and how swampy it would be if I were still in the Bronx.
There is a lot to miss about NY but a lot to be happy about here.
Your polaroid reminds me of the time we were all walking back from Diner to your place and they were pulling a coffin out of that place next to King David's.

Octopus Grigori said...

Ick. Still would like to be back there, though.

Anonymous said...

I've just appointed myself as Poetry Editor of Ok, oh:

July

This week, a sweat
factor of ten, New
York thick as lard.

My son sweats
buckets like his god-
father
I sweat a lot but not
like them.

My wife doesn't sweat
at all, or if she does it is un-
like sweat and like a fine
cool mist
off heathery slopes.

Anonymous said...

Nice Caeli. I appreciate the reorganization. Makes me look at this thing in a whole new light.

How was/is the land of bad teeth and Cadbury Bars?