by Damon Hubbs
Dreaming again of solitary Swedish houses
lava lamps, new wave lovers
what does it mean
I am not politically committed.
The sky is gummy from my burning perch
and I must admit, dear Cinnette
I love the moral owl
in Elizabeth Bishop’s Letter to N.Y.
yea we’ve all been there
heaven, in boats, carrying cold fireworks
across the Baltic Sea
In your next letter please tell me
why all the Helens of Troy
go to the bakery on 2nd Street
Tell me how people used to memorize phone numbers
Tell me how long it takes for a sound to speak—
… My mother lost
the battle of the green at Sloan Kettering
The snow is laid bare
I can’t believe planes had never brought down
buildings before.
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Damon Hubbs is a poet from New England. His work has appeared in many cool places.