by B. Torii26 Jun 2016
I want to eat fabric
Don’t touch money, he said,
It’s the worst thing you can do.
I won’t write until I can see it differently.
Into the army he went,
down in a shack in the Carnegie hall,
that’s where I want to be,
with Bill Cunningham as my neighbor
I won’t ever want anything
I want to live like an artist
Then I can smile and breathe beauty every day
If you love what you do you will be famous
Fingerprints cover the white paper,
black ash, a smudge
See his eyebrows? See his sandwich?
All for three bucks, kid
He really cared about the women in the photographs
I see myself as the world’s oldest living teenager
They’s in they 80s, they went to high school together, they never had a fight
Life historian, pop ticker, bag ladies, the queen of the underground the inspiration of the rich, the empty, seeking novel rareties