| LA | NY A Special Edition of The East Village Martha Ronk from Why/why not drink to me only Ok it's over she. No might be time. In the midst of a cup she says will you only. Some desires are momentary at best. Ok it's her turn. When you cross over the line. A lip on a cup. A cup's lip. Hers. Hanging on for dear life or going for broke. Her concern for the birds her obvious concern her birds. It's much too sweet she says I couldn't drink it for the life of me. *** A move across country. Wanting what. What sort of reciprocity. Two palms lit from below and a frissle of green. Is this what's left behind is this what can't be moved is the atrium California after all. White behind the cypress so obligation hardly sets in I don't owe you a thing. *** The object is now greener. Transplanted from one plot to another. In one she plays an addict and in the other a sort of woe-be-gone. Her arms across her chest. The willow in the wind. I'd be winded also. Just an object two or three inches across and imagine that it drives you crazy it drives me crazy what matter if it happens to someone else. Preternaturally calm is what objects. I want the green one through the window in the back of the shop. Of course I want to come. why is it the word for. Why not she goes or is going or is wont to. Some are naturally green. You were extraordinary he said and left to go where he was going. *** Come clean confesses her heart to me pretends to be limp with rage. The spy sees it untrue and reports it to you who wants to obsess, click it over and regress. Songstress like seamstress like strolling along a stream the aqua of our youth. The tape rewinds into sinks and rails and beds warbles their high pitched and I too I too falsetto. *** She's gotten too too. And where would it get us to ask why. The ramp of the incline. Inclining towards uppitiness. full of herself wouldn't be so bad sans infinitum and that fol de rol of whine. Thyself they say with restraint having spent a lifetime. LA Index |