Quagliano, Tony

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or like Kafka's artist charge admission,I could minimize bread alone,I could stitch a life from this or call it art. I could haul my scoured ribs past politics and find wine in an empty belly's mockery of government. I could side with such romance or really, I could tell you that I live in Los Angeles weigh two-thirty-five and just shared a mushroom pizza with a lady on Vermont Avenue.We had five bottles of Bud and now I'm going for some rum, Bacardi light, with Coke and limes. Cuba Libres. Sausages for breakfast. Ah, my friend, did you really swallow all that bitter deprivation?At the Artiste Bar the barmaid's mouth sets against laughter, she talks through her hands and her quick fingertips suture her smile —she can't forget those missing teeth —not even later, I wonder, her arms and legs spidered over some guy's back eyes wild or quiet in penetration what shape has her mouth then?-- Tony Quagliano Los Angeles, CANOTICE:::NOTICE:::NOTICE:::NOTICE:::NOTICE:::NOTICEIn the last issue (Wormwood:40), the name of Ron Koertge was omitted (page 126) after the following poems: "In The Hollywood Deli""The Burglar""Lazarus" and"Lately" ... thus it appears that they were authored by Gerald Locklin. Both poets have been exceptionally tolerant of the editor's error. We are re-running the mis-credited poems and adding three more inimitable Koertge poems. Turn the page

[At the Artiste Bar...]

http://ddd.uab.cat/pub/wormwood/wormwood_a1971v11n1i41/wormwood_a1971v11n1i41p7.pdf

[At the Artiste Bar...]

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