Sail, Baby

by Eileen Myles

The dog’s deceptively
clean bowl

My apartment is like this ache

At the Whitney
I liked the Savarin room

cording to what

and in order
to make a really abstract novel

You’re like a restaurant that doesn’t
exist anymore

When I pick up
turds
it goes boom boom boom
in my head

Yesterday to sped up
Friday

Today’s Sunday
jumping already.

Taboo goes woo woo
at me
on the bridge

I’ve got a new
word flaneur

yeah and
I’m writing poetry
in the new thing

I’m a flaneur
too I say
this bridge
called
woo woo

standing on
Essex

and she’s
everywhere

mom

the nothing
spot
where
a tree’s so
long
ago
been