Long Nose Pinocchio Bitch No long-john sense of humor is gonna long for this room. Are water balloons good or evil? That’s what Italian tai chi is asking you, boy, in your sleeping bag with your Pulitzer Prize attached at the grunt and push, stepped- up nose like the biggest icicle you never saw in the mirror, no matter how…
I started over & over. Not this.
I couldn’t resist this one, either: In Midwinter, an Odd Thing Can Happen Halfway Through a McDonald Sandwich Luis Cabalquinto I am eating a sandwich at McDonald’s. It is in a large empty patio, white space. It is midwinter, and cold. A sparrow flies in suddenly— Hops about under the tables. I throw a crumb which lands at his feet.…
More from the Winter 1983 issue of Bridge: The Pulse Arthur Sze A woman in a psychiatric ward is hysterical; she has to get a letter to God by tomorrow or the world will end. Which root of a chamisa grows and grows? Which dies? An analysis of the visual cortex of the brain cofines your world-view even as you…
The creepiest thing in this week’s New Yorker isn’t the article on Gertrude Stein that has Michael Magee all in a huff. It’s the moment in the article on movie remake maven Roy Lee in which he’s described has having been “self-conscious about his appearance” as a child (“another boy, in high school, would tug down the folds of his…
California Tim now also comes with a dog. Her name is Terra and we just picked her up from the Peninsula Humane Society. She’s a 3-year-old yellow Lab. She was just spayed this morning so she’s mostly been lying down between bouts of wandering around listlessly. I’ve never had a pet in my house. My family did have a Rottweiler…
Cynic Tim comes with googly eyes that swirl around but always revert to a rolled-up position, as well as a clipboard, a sharp pencil tucked behind his ear, and a copy of the New York Times he is stuffing into a trash can.
From the Winter 1983 literary issue of Bridge: Two Voices for Li Shang-yin John Yau First Voice Tonight, I would rather stay up than dream, For I can no longer bear to meet you In the only room we share. And yet, I do not want to share Myself with anyone but you, Who left me imprisoned in a dream.…
Josh, I say stick with the title. It’s mathy with a cryptic air. Descriptive. Whirls and nectarines are so 1913.
Gasp! Ron Silliman has exposed me for the heartless cynic that I am!