today, in honor of my #*th birthday,
i put on my new pink low rise corduroy
flares
today, in honor of my #*th birthday,
augie and lyana (my winnowed minnows) swam synchronized
naps
today, in honor of my #*th birthday,
i changed the sheets on my bed from baby blue to red to red
to red . . .
today, in honor of my #*th birth,
i watched #*# w**dru^^, who i slept with once or twice (in 1986), report from islamabad
for abc
(he still looked good!) i would sleep with him again, today
in honor of my #*th birthday, i brewed up just for me
a whole pot of prince vladimir tea, i mean,
thé
today, in honor of my 3*th,
i remembered berrigan's birthday poem and his birthday pants
(i think he was turning burning twenty seven eight nine ten!)
and the new york sky, returned to his sky
and his heart, and frank's, and, given many more years and tries,
(but, now, that's not how it works, is it?) maybe
mine!
today, in honor of my birth, my rebirth, i was frank and i was ted
(i was (would have been) that good in bed) but my husband was nowhere to be
found
he was let loose he was hunting moose
near magrath on a
raft
(a fat new moose of a lover in his boney head)
and remember, there were also those nasty birthday poems by sylvia by sylvia
plath plath plath? and salamun wrote a wonderful little birthday poem, with that army
shit and tommy in it,
and who else? i don't know,
i'm secretly not that well read,
although it's a secret i keep only from
me
(from me, from me)
today, in honor, to preserve my honor, my poetic honor, my code,
i actually went and found that little black book with the lace appliqué,
that book i stole from the juneau public librar(and it was/is rare)y
following in ted's boots, his foots, his falls, his steps . . . (still to do today: smoke more
cigarettes, steal some books . . .)
and my god! look! berrigan also had a birthday shirt! dear old (and he was so young) ted was
always over over over
over the fucking top, good for fucking
him
today in my honor,
thought: at the top, am i, of my game
today today today, in honor of my thirty and my eight,
i ate i ate i ate
i decided to stay up late late late
i celebrated
i berated (almost) no one (and it was already after
noon)
but i never should have picked at, picked up that cake, i mean (and i am mean)
that cate or that spenser
i mean, short
i mean, too long
too young
too dean, i mean,
too earnest
too important
too marvelous
too much
and
not not not not near or far enough
is one day
to celebrate
my miraculous, my moment
-ary, my airy, my aerie, my moment
of inertia, of truth
my
-ous, and my
-turn, my monument of a
birth,
my lovely girlie-girth!
no maid am i, but still not bad, not bad . . .
today, in honor of my 38th,
i wrote this poem,
and i haven't written
a poem in years!
in years,
in years . . .
oh my friends, to you, in tears, i drink a beer
your old friend is thirty is thirty is thirty—
eight, right now, today!
though some of you forgot, oh, forget (it) away . . .
what would my long not heard from friend joe have to say about all this?
what would my tall short found long lost (friend or foe?) matt have to say
about anything at all?
i must go read his new book and find out!
still to do in honor of my birth(to)day:
go for a short-long walk
buy some milk (both skim and whole)
hold off on that pregnancy test until next week when i'm not so depressed
not be so depressed!
eat many many many more m&ms (line then up, pair them up, by color, by design) by birth
yeah, give kids bath (more bubbles, mama, and less troubles, please, say they)
kiss their faces and their bellies, their fingers and their tips
get rid of them, palm them off to sleep, to sleep, to sleep, and then,
watch a good movie or
write mary (mary, have you seen anything good lately?) or finish reading
the good (well, the all right) soldier
for god's sake: stop and think!
mastermastermasterbate
sleep my self, my way to not today, to not my (birth)day
yet some how try to always to feel this this
this commemorative this commemorated
finally not under rated or sedated
(look, see here: my fireworks! my flat stomach and the fruit of my womb! my flares!)
tomorrow, in honor of my birthday: DO NOT REVISE
THIS
poem
this
life
this
everything
and
anything
(is something, ain't it, love?) love?
where? and, when?
tomorrow:
buy birthday shirt: it will (will it?) be red or
orange or pink
not yellow!
not blue!