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About this Poem 

“Urban nature is like living with mass conditions. It sometimes feels like a myth & you are its scribe.”
Eileen Myles

our happiness

was when the
lights were
out

the whole city
in darkness

& we drove north
to our friend’s
yellow apt.
where she had
power & we
could work

later we stayed
in the darkened
apt. you sick
in bed & me
writing ambitiously
by candle light
in thin blue
books

your neighbor had
a generator &
after a while
we had a little
bit of light

I walked the
dog & you
were still
a little bit
sick

we sat on a stoop
one day in the
late afternoon
we had very little
money. enough for
a strong cappuccino
which we shared
sitting there &
suddenly the
city was lit.

Copyright © 2014 by Eileen Myles. Used with permission of the author.

Copyright © 2014 by Eileen Myles. Used with permission of the author.

Eileen Myles

Eileen Myles

Dennis Cooper describes Myles as "one of the savviest and most restless intellects in contemporary literature." Holland Cotter names Myles as "a cult figure to a generation of post-punk female writer-performers."

by this poet

poem

faint tinkling down the street
moved me from Swan
to Mass Ave
the skinny men running
into Boston. Why

I don’t know. Let’s go
to town hall
giant horses
Paul Revere & William
Dawes and horses
hairy poop lands
splat on the brick. Get em to sign
your

poem
you've gotta
write clearer
so you can
be read
when you're
dead
poem
I've already had a lot of them
I'm looking at a tree
full of tiny balls
California trees are different
thin eucalyptus more blades than
leaves not hitting
my face
it's a country of tiny leaves

no leaves

simply balls
I desire a big book about
this not better
than them but
their friend.
Who doesn't love the text