Wayne Koestenbaum
Milk, Nuts, Patriarchy
milk, nuts, patriarchy
the ringleader the least responsive
asters triumphing as proxies for time’s red-blue problem
yellow orbs, encircled by black, above green orbs, also encircled by black
an orb paradox, can you solve it
what else lands in my cup
call it “anonyme” or “anonymous” or “senza nome” or “sans nom”
where were the starlets when I begged them to arrive
when the door opens, when the door fails to open
a pond around the lighthouse
an enemy army crossing the bridge
landing in Robinson Crusoe’s lap
greeted by keys
quays obtuse
dog befriends vase
Buddha slides down horse
grammar obviously
explains why I deprived you of this feast
stuck blue clouds above quadaphonic LP
the door not open until now
wash your dirty soles
highlight the inelegant passages
words coming only because I perfected the trampoline
blunted by opprobrium
we didn’t protect his lungs and heart
David’s Eyebrows
a Book of Hours sans grave-rubbings
like a trousseau napkin
I met a botanist who chickened out at the last minute
when I followed him to his arboretum
an “all-over” painting or a Bibliothèque Nationale tearoom
fingering any abyss
a revisitation of The Second Sex and Minima Moralia on the same daybed
one is prelapsarian and the other is a climacteric
the centrality of the aphorism and its glans
like Sappho mixed with Armagnac
your raised arm, a lithograph, is indirect
stepchild and echo of inscriptions long left obscure
a fundament that doesn’t invite your Golden Bowl interrogation
a tender-is-the-night stance and a posterior of my own
other realms of fioritura along the necropolis’s marshy border
spittle wiped from bottom lip
nipples lurking below the disposatif
vicarious traveler at my disposal
cyclopean Nijinsky leap
melancholy and a Frans Hals gestural abandon
a Daphnis and Chloe remorselessness
splitting stubble between several inamoratos
thick and italicized, like Michelangelo’s Laurentian Library
a word or two about your eyebrows while the world falls apart