Montauk (in response to lines by A. R. Ammons)


her joy
was rotting fish heads
& it would cost
my calf muscles
as much as
a broken-field runner
to get to
where she could find them
in the accidental vise grip
of rocks
and rusting iron
beyond the last pier
& no matter how much
I towelled and rinsed
her muzzle afterwards
she would reek
of death and brine
for days –
but you either
love your dog
or you don’t


turned in
by the bayshore
and parked,
the crosswind
hitting me hard
side the head,
the bay scrappy
and working:
what a
way to read
Williams! till
a woman came
and turned
her red dog loose
to sniff
(and piss
the dead horseshoe

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Morning Commute by Ally Malinenko

Your One Phone Call

Hey, he says,
you look like my wife.
You Indian?
Hey, he says,
You Indian?
Let me show you a picture of my wife.
Look at that.
Ain’t she gorgeous?
She looks Indian.
But she’s a Puerto Rican.
Isn’t that funny.
I was so excited.
Thought I bagged me an Indian
or a Pakistani
and then she tells me
No man, I’m Puerto Rican.
Close enough, right?
She’s still beautiful, right?
Like you.
I gotta say, I think you’re the most beautiful thing
on this train.
I mean, look at you.
Like my wife.
What’s your name?
Oh, Dasha.
Like with a D.
That’s very exotic.
I like that.
You’re Indian?
Yeah, that’s what I thought.
Dasha, I’m Anthony.
I gotta tell you,
you’re the most beautiful thing
on this train.
I’m not bothering you, right?
I mean, you got a book.
I can…

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Sasha And Dasha by Oleg Razumovsky

Your One Phone Call

Dasha loved Sasha, and Sasha loved great russian poet Alexander Pushkin. He memorized one hundred poems of the poet and shone in the classroom. The teacher of literature, Larissa Ivanovna, praised Sasha very much. She loved him and strongly encouraged to love poetry and all Russian literature. But the student of the same class as Sasha, the tatar named Rashid, did not like Pushkin at all and often muttered in literature classes: fucking Pushkin, Pushkin sucks, Pushkin is an asshole … No wonder the real Russian people claim that we have borrowed the foul language from the Tatars. This is probably true. It is clear that the literature teacher hated Rashid and would like him to be transferred to another class, another school or kicked out of the city and the country for good.

So, Dasha loved Sasha. Sure. He was so great, he recited Pushkin’s poems very well. Dasha…

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