Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

a taste of falling and other poems

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 falling and other poems


“Gary Percesepe drops you into an ambiguous world and pulls you back, still reeling.

Heather Cox, author of California King

 

one year the men all dressed in sherbet colored

summer suits of purest linen

it was the year i fell in love with a

hand model

in paris 

 

i went home to new york

to escape something ...

the woman in my dream

 

never meet

but keep each other warm

through long winter nights

texting and emailing and shipping

drafts back and forth in cyberspace

writers in love

 

a frozen river

women named gabriella

a low cut little black dress

on which my watery eyes linger

addicted to a few things

 

I don’t remember

her name, the girl I

mean, but if you see

her would you tell her

for me that it’s OK to be

an out of towner when

you look like Catherine

Deneuve

New York, New York

 

Aren’t you acting terribly pre-9/11?

Someone has to smile at her as she

comes back from the bathroom. I can’t

say I’m sorry.

Question

 

eleanor roosevelt waddled up with franklin

all smiles and top-hatted, his long cigarette holder

canted at a precarious angle and whacking

dick cheney with his cane

spill

 

life is a single page

an hour badly spent or

maybe one long afternoon

still life

 

 

the shattered sound of summer thunderstorms

tearing beneath us

she’s sliced

the road

as we speed back by

the tearing

 

we drove in silence

yellow fog

swallowed the headlights

at coney island

 

Q: Is it possible to stay too long in a marriage?

A: Of course.

Q: Do you know it at the time?

A: Not always.

Q: Why do you stay too long?

A: Because you remember and because you are afraid.

Love, An Inquiry

 

What was unspoken between us continued as before. I orbited

in the Miami River valley, you tanned and did hot yoga in Jersey.

In These Rooms

 

I thought of my wife alone

in the big old house in the

last hour of light.

The house has gaping

the news from brooklyn

 

Once, in high school, I knew where I wanted to go. This was during my senior year. In class, our history teacher apologized profusely for what was coming.

January 1

 

Hot chocolate, china. Why not. And this wee bread I

found at Kroger packaged in half a loaf for divorced men.

Half Loaf

 

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