recipe for suddenly single

Cockgobbler Cocktail

6 oz. Marino's cherry italian ice
6 oz. Finlandia Vodka

Stir into slushy liquid. Drink.

wooden spoons

from http://www.oddtodd.com/message434.html:

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Marino,

The other day I was at the supermarket looking for some alternative to ice cream because my face is too round and when I push my chin into my neck it doesn't look so good. I was considering some yogurt fat-free frozen gunk when I saw a box of Marinos Italian Ices. Watermelon flavor. Six cups in the box! I'm like, 'Italian ice! I loved italian ice as a kid! Psyched! Yummy with the wooden spoon thing scrape scrape fun delicious activity thing!' I threw the box in my cart and shoved off.

When I got home and opened the box and was hugely disappointed. There were no wooden spoons in the box! There were no spoons at all! Just the six things of italian ice all alone! I shook the box out and looked inside. What?! No wooden spoons?! WTF!? That's half the fun of having italian ice I think! How could you (of all people!) not know this!? So I grabbed a stupid regular old metal spoon and did the scrape scrape with that but it wasn't the same. It sucked. And there was something slightly chilling doing the scrape scrape with the metal. Like chalkboard nails stuff.

So Mr. & Mrs. Marino, I'm telling you you're making a huge mistake by not including the wooden spoons! I'm definitely not going to buy any more take-home italian ice until you rectify the situation with the wooden spoons! You're f'in crazy to not have the wooden spoons in there! Is it a cost cutting thing? How much could a wooden spoon cost? Uncheapify yourself! I'd settle for one and just reuse it!

Get your act together Mr. & Mrs. Marino! C'mon! Jeez louise!

ok bye!

tOdd

Poets On Call No High Horse

Up in Smoke

Found on a postcard at St. Mark's Bookshop:

If Jesus smoked he would have made
It easier for those who pray

A little match, a little flame,
A little smoke that spells our name

And by that smoke, immortal life--
By Camel, Kool or Lucky Strike

Charles Simic for the Win

Charles Simic has been named the new poet laureate of the United States. Of the new consultant to the Library of Congress, the Academy of American Poets writes: Simic was appointed the fifteenth Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry in 2007. About the appointment, Librarian of Congress James H. Billington said, "The range of Charles Simic's imagination is evident in his stunning and unusual imagery. He handles language with the skill of a master craftsman, yet his poems are easily accessible, often meditative and surprising. He has given us a rich body of highly organized poetry with shades of darkness and flashes of ironic humor."

Late September

The mail truck goes down the coast
Carrying a single letter.
At the end of a long pier
The bored seagull lifts a leg now and then
And forgets to put it down.
There is a menace in the air
Of tragedies in the making.

Last night you thought you heard television
In the house next door.
You were sure it was some new
Horror they were reporting,
So you went out to find out.
Barefoot, wearing just shorts.
It was only the sea sounding weary
After so many lifetimes
Of pretending to be rushing off somewhere
And never getting anywhere.

This morning, it felt like Sunday.
The heavens did their part
By casting no shadow along the boardwalk
Or the row of vacant cottages,
Among them a small church
With a dozen gray tombstones huddled close
As if they, too, had the shivers.