Craig Cotter

I text Davin

in Rhode Island
"Still awake?"


A song plays
Vietnamese noodle place


In 30 years
they’ll hear it

at a Vietnamese
noodle place



"Hows longhair twink
you made-up for me?"

"He is real and he is rude."

"What rude thing he do
and how nice r his


Black-eyed Susans.


A tool
roots in sandy soil.


"Didn't smile at me. Small
orange shoes."

"Tennis shoes?"



"I’d make him smile.
Whats his stats?"



"X X"

Your Socks

Arabian Nights ,
the sultans’harems—
one girl for each day of the year
in every palace.

I’d have a twink harem.

         They’d get educated
& when too old
good jobs running my estate.

         So I stole
a pair of your white
ankle socks.

         As you’d blacked-out
figured you wouldn’t miss them.


         The Beatles
had 4 lead singers.
They could each play
6 to 10 instruments.

         Electric light
on cars in parking lot
surrounded by black iron fence.


Faint scent of you
or olfactory memory?

Hold them
to my nose
one at a time

to smell cotton,

then you’re gone.
Then your youth is gone
if you’re lucky.

         In a dream last night I was told:

“The problem with poetry
you get the noodles
mixed with the sauce.”


         Beatles fans
fill the parking lot
43 years after they broke-up.

Jerry just called
stuck on the 101.

Frank O’Hara and I enter
         the Orpheum Theatre.

Oblivion doesn’t make much sense
& neither does life.


Four 16-year-old surfers
cross PCH from Zuma
to Trancas Market parking lot.

Mustang & 4-by-4.

Clean sand from their feet.

Drop swim trunks behind towels.

Talk about sex like we did at 16.

Say good-bye with gentle fist pumps.

Fatigue After A Long Illness

I thought you were crying last night
in the other room.

Didn’t have enough in me
to check.


This morning I asked
and you weren’t.

Just sinuses.

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