by Howie Good
Last night I went to a movie at the Upstate,
Marisa Tomei was in it, she played an aging stripper,
but without the cellulite and droopy ass,
who worked at a club in Jersey called Cheeks,
black walls, myopic lighting, loud music,
the graveyard of empires, where a lap dance
in the VIP Room cost you 60 bucks
and the vinyl siding salesmen from Trenton
got hard as she gyrated on stage in a G-string,
her eyes strangely dead, the boarded-up windows
of a once-prosperous downtown appliance store,
I wanted to tell her, Oh, Marisa, don’t be sad,
you’re beautiful, instead the guy sitting
behind me kept crossing and uncrossing his legs
and kicking the back of my seat.
- ► 2010 (221)
- The Champ
- MY SISTER SAYS BUT DOESN’T EVERYONE WASTE THEIR LIFE?
- takes all kinds
- For One Night Only
- Sunday Morning
- All I need to know.
- I kill it.
- bacon lips
- The End of the World.
- Backing out of the parking lot
- Great Russia
- THE CAT’S YELP IN BLACK LIGHT
- Bombs Away!
- Bill Burroughs
- all those big words
- UPON WAKING UP TOO EARLY
- 10,000 THINGS
- I Don’t Do Much
- IF MY GRANDMOTHER COULD HAVE WRITTEN A POSTCARD TO...
- Failed Suicide
- according to the geneva convention
- Looking for Kerouac
- joe the poet
- ralph was here
- A Mother's Guilt
- The Mirror
- 9 to 5
- another cancer poem
- YELLOW ROSES
- Lux Interior -- R.I.P. in Zombie Hell
- Coney Island Bird Girl
- ode to february
- OCTOBER DREAM
- THE QUESTION
- in the interim
- dying alone in a small room while listening to bad...
- BEING JEWISH IN A SMALL TOWN
- the good news is zimbabwe introduced a 50 million ...
- LAP DANCE
- Too much or nothing
- My Home Borough
- ▼ February (46)