From the Archives...
Artist Colony Application
take me I’m
paranoid enough to imagine
the woman with towels
steams letters off
my computer,
rearranges them
to tell the cooks not
to serve me
non carbs
I have English
publishers who will
scale sheer stone and
glass on days when
nothing much
is happening,
my lap top’s
often mistaken for
an extinct bird.
I’m needy, I
talk when I
should, I’ll
sleep in any
bed . I
have never heard any
fascists in the
leaves, play pool
adequately, love
the sound of balls
will eat onion
sandwiches liver
wurst on a bun,
anything that is
put before me
I don’t smoke can
be dressed impressed
depressed to suit
your wishes