Grizzled metalhead
Like his Motorhead t-shirt
Has seen better days
He'd cut the sleeves off to show off his arms, which were covered in tattoos of big-haired rock stars, flames, the AC/DC logo, and an inexplicable memorial portrait of Waylon Jennings.
I was going to link to Motorhead's official site, but it's kind of scary. Not so much because of the skulls and stuff, but because those guys are pushing 70. Also, it looks like the meth is catching up with them.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Day 301: Ouch
A long sharp hatpin
Twirls across the subway floor
Looking for a foot
Is your tetanus up to date?
Twirls across the subway floor
Looking for a foot
Is your tetanus up to date?
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Day 300: <--------Day 300! Hell yeah!
Sweet coconut bits
Enrobed in burnt sugar, like
Edible jewels
Nuts 4 Nuts is my kryptonite, so let's raise a tiny wax paper bag of sugary deliciousness in celebration.
Enrobed in burnt sugar, like
Edible jewels
Nuts 4 Nuts is my kryptonite, so let's raise a tiny wax paper bag of sugary deliciousness in celebration.
Day 299: What are you looking at?
That's right, Mr. Ink
Huff and puff when people stare
At your tattooed face
While I'm sure most body art has deep spiritual and artistic significance, I have to assume that at least part of its purpose is to attract attention. If you really don't want people to gawk at your tattoo, get it on your butt.
Huff and puff when people stare
At your tattooed face
While I'm sure most body art has deep spiritual and artistic significance, I have to assume that at least part of its purpose is to attract attention. If you really don't want people to gawk at your tattoo, get it on your butt.
Day 298: Snow White
Her froth of white hair
Like a crisp shiny meringue
Fresh from the oven
I would rather go snow white than gray, but I'm not sure I want my hair to move into confection-helmet territory.
Like a crisp shiny meringue
Fresh from the oven
I would rather go snow white than gray, but I'm not sure I want my hair to move into confection-helmet territory.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Reader Submission: A Modest Submission from 6feet1
From the very funny 6feet1, who occasionally rants here:
Friend, that subway pole
Is not yours. Hands only, please.
Are you a stripper?
Ah yes, the subway pole dance. As someone who tries really hard not to touch anything on the subway, I don't understand the people who wrap their entire bodies around the pole.
Friend, that subway pole
Is not yours. Hands only, please.
Are you a stripper?
Ah yes, the subway pole dance. As someone who tries really hard not to touch anything on the subway, I don't understand the people who wrap their entire bodies around the pole.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Day 297: As seen on 42nd Street
A Ghandi-esque man
Pedals a girl's bicycle
Pink streamers flying
That's a new one for me. The man was tall, frail, and clad in a long white tunic and trousers. He rode his pink and white child-sized bike down the crowded sidewalk next to Bryant Park, smiling and waving his best Queen Elizabeth wave. There's a story there.
Pedals a girl's bicycle
Pink streamers flying
That's a new one for me. The man was tall, frail, and clad in a long white tunic and trousers. He rode his pink and white child-sized bike down the crowded sidewalk next to Bryant Park, smiling and waving his best Queen Elizabeth wave. There's a story there.
Day 296: Growing pains, part II
This city treats you
Like a standoffish lover
You can't bear to leave
Anybody else ever feel that way about this place?
Like a standoffish lover
You can't bear to leave
Anybody else ever feel that way about this place?
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Day 292: Lady Luck
A moment of hope
The frantic scratching of a
Lottery ticket
Better luck next time, man.
The frantic scratching of a
Lottery ticket
Better luck next time, man.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Day 291: Tick tick
A droopy baby
All ringlets and chubby legs
Rubs his sleepy eyes
I'm not very interested in babies, but for some reason this little cherub awakened all the emotions that I usually reserve for Cairn terriers.
All ringlets and chubby legs
Rubs his sleepy eyes
I'm not very interested in babies, but for some reason this little cherub awakened all the emotions that I usually reserve for Cairn terriers.
Day 290: Is this heaven?
The girl in cutoffs
And her blond, corn-fed husband
Look like Iowa
I've never been to Iowa, but I've had a good feeling about it since 1989. Why 1989? Because that's when Field of Dreams came out.
I'm guessing these fresh-faced kids were transplants from someplace where no one throws bags of chicken carcasses out the kitchen window and public urination is minimal.
And her blond, corn-fed husband
Look like Iowa
I've never been to Iowa, but I've had a good feeling about it since 1989. Why 1989? Because that's when Field of Dreams came out.
I'm guessing these fresh-faced kids were transplants from someplace where no one throws bags of chicken carcasses out the kitchen window and public urination is minimal.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Day 289: Need a tissue?
A red-eyed woman
Wipes her nose on her head scarf
Then sneezes on it
As a frequent sinus infection sufferer, I definitely know the "any port in a storm" feeling that happens when you're caught without a tissue. I've turned to napkins, stray pieces of paper, fossilized purse tissues, even large maple leaves. But I've always made on effort to clean my drippy nose with things that were not attached to my person.
Also, I really should have a tag for "hygiene." So much of my haiku involves nail clipping and nose-blowing.
Wipes her nose on her head scarf
Then sneezes on it
As a frequent sinus infection sufferer, I definitely know the "any port in a storm" feeling that happens when you're caught without a tissue. I've turned to napkins, stray pieces of paper, fossilized purse tissues, even large maple leaves. But I've always made on effort to clean my drippy nose with things that were not attached to my person.
Also, I really should have a tag for "hygiene." So much of my haiku involves nail clipping and nose-blowing.
Day 288: Everyone's a Tour Guide
An old New Yorker
Advises French tourists on
Sites not to be missed
She was a leggy Black woman in short shorts with a heavy French accent and two friends who didn't speak any English. He was a silver-haired man with a yarmulke and a briefcase. They were so engrossed in their conversation that it looked like they knew each other well. Then I realized she was holding a guidebook and he was saying stuff like "you HAVE to go to the top of the Empire State Building. That's where I proposed to my wife! Oh, and the Botanic Garden -- don't miss it!"
As much as we all love to hate tourists (and I work in Midtown, so I'm usually not pretending), I defy you to find a New Yorker capable of turning down the chance to brag about something we've got that they don't have anywhere else.
Advises French tourists on
Sites not to be missed
She was a leggy Black woman in short shorts with a heavy French accent and two friends who didn't speak any English. He was a silver-haired man with a yarmulke and a briefcase. They were so engrossed in their conversation that it looked like they knew each other well. Then I realized she was holding a guidebook and he was saying stuff like "you HAVE to go to the top of the Empire State Building. That's where I proposed to my wife! Oh, and the Botanic Garden -- don't miss it!"
As much as we all love to hate tourists (and I work in Midtown, so I'm usually not pretending), I defy you to find a New Yorker capable of turning down the chance to brag about something we've got that they don't have anywhere else.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Day 287: Nobody likes a litterbug
If you're throwing trash
Out of your car window, then
Please start with yourself
Because anyone who flings a handful of dirty tissues out their window at an intersection is a real class act.
Out of your car window, then
Please start with yourself
Because anyone who flings a handful of dirty tissues out their window at an intersection is a real class act.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Day 286: Super Fresh
Her shirt screams "SEXY!!"
And she's got a Conway bag
Full of Summer's Eve
I didn't even know they still made that stuff. Granted, she bought it at Conway, where it could have been sitting in the basement next to the mattresses since 1987.
And she's got a Conway bag
Full of Summer's Eve
I didn't even know they still made that stuff. Granted, she bought it at Conway, where it could have been sitting in the basement next to the mattresses since 1987.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Day 285: Stink Memory
You got off the train
But you left something behind
We can still smell you
Summer in New York begs the question: can you die from an odor?
But you left something behind
We can still smell you
Summer in New York begs the question: can you die from an odor?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Day 284: Heat Wave
Welcome to New York's first official heat wave of the year.
We swim through the streets
Choking on humidity
And collective funk
I have no delusions about remaining fresh as a daisy on my commute when the mercury hits 80. Once it hits 95, I no longer have the energy to be embarrassed about my pit stains.
We can't install our A/C unit because they are doing construction on the front of our building and all it will do is suck in dusty construction air. Also, there is a very real possibility that it will be knocked out by falling bricks. I'm safely at work, where I can enjoy air conditioned splendor. Patient Boyfriend has strict instructions to relocate to the public library (with both cats in tow) if it gets too hot. That should be interesting.
We swim through the streets
Choking on humidity
And collective funk
I have no delusions about remaining fresh as a daisy on my commute when the mercury hits 80. Once it hits 95, I no longer have the energy to be embarrassed about my pit stains.
We can't install our A/C unit because they are doing construction on the front of our building and all it will do is suck in dusty construction air. Also, there is a very real possibility that it will be knocked out by falling bricks. I'm safely at work, where I can enjoy air conditioned splendor. Patient Boyfriend has strict instructions to relocate to the public library (with both cats in tow) if it gets too hot. That should be interesting.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Day 283: Variations on a theme
Somewhere under the
East River, Brooklyn begins
And welcomes you home
With a resounding ear pop, in my case. But maybe that's just because I have weird Eustachian tubes. And if you don't already love Brooklyn, these amusing/ridiculous signs brought to you by local buffoon and perennial borough president Marty Markowitz just might win you over.
P.S. Many people insist that no one in Brooklyn actually says "Fuhgeddaboutit." Those people have never met my pharmacist.
East River, Brooklyn begins
And welcomes you home
With a resounding ear pop, in my case. But maybe that's just because I have weird Eustachian tubes. And if you don't already love Brooklyn, these amusing/ridiculous signs brought to you by local buffoon and perennial borough president Marty Markowitz just might win you over.
P.S. Many people insist that no one in Brooklyn actually says "Fuhgeddaboutit." Those people have never met my pharmacist.
Day 282: Subtle Signals
Far underwater
You can hear the difference
Between the boroughs
Riding the F train through the underwater stretch between East Broadway (Manhattan) and York Street (Brooklyn) always makes my ears pop a few times. Whenever I am coming home I feel an immense and inexplicable relief when the train leaves Manhattan (although I get antsy if I think too much about being in a tunnel underwater). I pretty sure the pop is the sound that the invisible underwater line separating the two boroughs makes when you cross it.
You can hear the difference
Between the boroughs
Riding the F train through the underwater stretch between East Broadway (Manhattan) and York Street (Brooklyn) always makes my ears pop a few times. Whenever I am coming home I feel an immense and inexplicable relief when the train leaves Manhattan (although I get antsy if I think too much about being in a tunnel underwater). I pretty sure the pop is the sound that the invisible underwater line separating the two boroughs makes when you cross it.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Day 281: Vulnerability
Without my iPod
My commuting bubble breaks
Leaving me exposed
Sometimes technology creates a protective shell with which we are loath to part.
If you take out your headphones, people might try to engage you in conversation or ask you for directions. The horror.
My commuting bubble breaks
Leaving me exposed
Sometimes technology creates a protective shell with which we are loath to part.
If you take out your headphones, people might try to engage you in conversation or ask you for directions. The horror.
Day 280: The Fever
It is good to share
Except when you're listening
To Justin Bieber
Take a stand against iPod headphone leakage. In related news, I love this story from the Times a few years ago.
Except when you're listening
To Justin Bieber
Take a stand against iPod headphone leakage. In related news, I love this story from the Times a few years ago.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Day 279: Planning ahead
Two mothers make lists
Of the things their kids will work
Out in therapy
I'm not a parent, but I already have a mental list going on the off chance that I do have a child one day.
Of the things their kids will work
Out in therapy
I'm not a parent, but I already have a mental list going on the off chance that I do have a child one day.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Day 278: Tweezerman
You reach in your nose
Grasp a nose hair and yank with
Obvious gusto
He was really enjoying himself.
Grasp a nose hair and yank with
Obvious gusto
He was really enjoying himself.
Day 277: Smoke and mirrors
A seat opens up
I gleefully slide away
From your hacking cough
Smoker's cough knows no season.
On the subject of smoking, kudos to NYC for banning smoking in public parks. Ku-DON'Ts to Mayor Bloomberg for expecting regular people to enforce it. I was at the Boathouse over the weekend and a surly bikini-clad young woman lit up an obligatory American spirit. I toyed with the idea of reminding her that it's now illegal to smoke in parks, but she looked like she could have kicked my ass.
I gleefully slide away
From your hacking cough
Smoker's cough knows no season.
On the subject of smoking, kudos to NYC for banning smoking in public parks. Ku-DON'Ts to Mayor Bloomberg for expecting regular people to enforce it. I was at the Boathouse over the weekend and a surly bikini-clad young woman lit up an obligatory American spirit. I toyed with the idea of reminding her that it's now illegal to smoke in parks, but she looked like she could have kicked my ass.
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