Tag Archives: Redneck Summer

For my lover…


How many nights have I lain here like this, feverish with plans,

with fears, with the last sentence someone spoke, still trying to finish

a conversation already over? How many nights were wasted

in not sleeping, how many in sleep–I don’t know

how many hungers there are, how much radiance or salt, how many times

the world breaks apart, disintegrates to nothing and starts up again

in the course of an ordinary hour. I don’t know how God can bear

seeing everything at once: the falling bodies, the monuments and burnings,

the lovers pacing the floors of how many locked hearts. I want to close

my eyes and find a quiet field in fog, a few sheep moving toward a fence.

I want to count them, I want them to end. I don’t want to wonder

how many people are sitting in restaurants about to close down,

which of them will wander the sidewalks all night

while the pies revolve in the refrigerated dark. How many days

are left of my life, how much does it matter if I manage to say

one true thing about it—how often have I tried, how often

failed and fallen into depression? The field is wet, each grassblade

gleaming with its own particularity, even here, so that I can’t help

asking again, the white sky filling with footprints, bricks,

with mutterings over rosaries, with hands that pass over flames

before covering the eyes. I’m tired, I want to rest now.

I want to kiss the body of my lover, the one mouth, the simple name

without a shadow. Let me go. How many prayers

are there tonight, how many of us must stay awake and listen?

– Kim Addonizio





On a rainy night in New York City, nothing is hitting the spot better than this song…


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The Next Messiah..

The perfect song for right now

I’m gonna give my love to you
One day you gotta bring it back…

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Until the Crickets…

And you lost your way home. And it feels familiar. And crickets guide you back. And you hear them calling. And it sounds familiar. And they might help you out…

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I think a bunny would do me good..

I moved to New York and had to leave my beautiful kitten-daughter Raveonette behind with my parents. I miss her very much, but she loves being outside more than she loves me, I’m pretty sure. I know it would make her miserable to stay in my NYC apartment all the time, and never go outside, maybe the occasional walk around pavement leashed to me, but that just doesn’t seem right… So I had to do what any caring mother would do, think of what’s best for my child, not necessarily what makes me the happiest.. I decided she’d be  better off staying in Tuscaloosa, no one should have to be raised in the city. In Tuscaloosa, Alabama she has the freedom to roam the great outdoors, and the comfort of coming inside and snuggling with her grandparents (my parents) whenever she wants to… I am not trying to replace her, but I have come to the conclusion that I must have some sort of fluffy love within reach.. A floppy eared bunny might just do the trick…

I’m in love with illusions
So saw me in half
I’m in love with tricks
So pull another rabbit out of your hat.

…and maybe I’ll wear bunny ears too..



Yesterday morning I was walking to the subway station to ride over to the East Village, do some shopping and gawking. The sweet scent of coffee beans got stuck in my nose. Suddenly I had the urge to drink some heavily caffeinated dark brown beverage, and I knew Diet Coke just wasn’t gonna cut it this time. I ducked into the little hole in the wall coffee shop that I pass everyday, Bittersweet. I ordered my usual, an Americano, with just enough room for a splash of milk and a packet of aspartame. The man who took my order was wearing a striped vintage Hang-Ten, perfectly-too-small t-shirt. I couldn’t help but compliment him.

Then the sweet sounds of an ironic, twangy-lulling hit my hears. To my surprise they were playing Neil Young’s “Alabama” off Harvest Moon, one of my all time favorite albums, and of course, one of my all time favorite artists.

I must admit, it totally made my moment. I had diamonds in my eyes…

Oh Alabama,
the devil fools with the best laid plan.
Swing low Alabama.

And now the moment is all that it meant..

The Banjos playing through the broken glass.
Windows down in Alabama.
See the old folks tied in white ropes.
Hear the banjo.
Don’t it take you down home?..

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