by Damon Hubbs

“The moon is a dummy grenade launcher / and I need some / good advice: should I whip / out / my pay / and buy all the tubas in Switzerland”

by Damon Hubbs

“Ate a fragment / Of a tablet / M train girl loves the scene / Cutting corners, cutting edge / Clickety clack like a heart attack / Loves the horses of Ulster County / Loves the Coney Island Mermaid Parade / Denn die Todten reiten schnell / Denn die Todten reiten schnell / There’s not a living boy in New York”

by Damon Hubbs

“We inherit the party / the melancholy / of the lake, / queers, gondoliers, / ancient blue stars / it’s the same old scene.”

by Damon Hubbs

“I took the elevator to the making of the monster / the sparkly splendid, / the all-over abstracted. Thou art sick, they said. / Men of leisure piss vin blanc, / pop crimes, dog eat dog / between your thighs.”

by Damon Hubbs

“The theme is witches, / Levana and Our Ladies of Sorrows. / Keg in the corner. / Liquor on the counter. / Suzy arriving…”

by Damon Hubb

“I’m a little homesick. / Tomorrow never came / and I’ve always liked the grassy knoll / better than the landing strip, / the barely there, the Hollywood. / God, America was grand.”

by Damon Hubbs

“That summer I dyed my body blue / and worshipped strange gods. / At noon, on the first Wednesday of every month / the city of W_____ tests its air raid sirens…”

by Damon Hubbs

“It’s true I said I was writing a poem for Emily / about minimalism and lawn chairs because even though / I don’t know Emily I know she likes sparse, carefully constructed / poetry that resembles the Violator album by Depeche Mode.”

by Damon Hubbs

“…the waitress is already telling me / about tomato shortages in Nigeria / and how L’Étranger was once a big deal…”

by Damon Hubbs

“The train conductor in Stockbridge looks like Henry Miller / when Henry Miller learned to say amen.”

A Poem by Damon Hubbs

“All my friends are three months sober / in the throes of rhetoric / I bought a cat / and named her Rapture.”