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Immigrant

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on September 19, 2013 at 12:05 AM Comments comments (2)

I am an immigrant. My birth certificate says Queens, New York on it, but the truth is I was born in Africa 10 million years ago and came to America by way of Egypt, Israel, Russia, Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Romania, and finally to New York after a long boat ride from Poland.

 

I remember distinctly the mad crush on the gang ramp and filtering down into neat, orderly lines. At the top of the stairway, I could just see the white coats of medical inspectors. My asthma ha...

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Olives

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on September 19, 2013 at 12:05 AM Comments comments (0)

Olives

---------

 

The olive trees had stood for years

before they saw 50 sunsets.

They all came in one afternoon.

Narrow green leaves dyed black,

and brown bark ochre,

splashed red from time to time and left to fade.

 


The leaves fell in blessing,

and regrew when the ground thawed.

The olives ripened in the sun,

and held it tight when clouds came through.


 

50 suns...

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Diner State

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on June 25, 2012 at 12:40 AM Comments comments (0)

New Jersey is a great place for diners

and greasy books.

All the legends are true-

million dollar ideas scrawled on

the backs of napkins,

the bottoms of checks,

the sides of single-serving cereals.


 

We spell our genius

in scrambled eggs and Hollandaise-

to every man their short-order muse.

All crafted to order by a white-linen Hephaestus,

made with maple-sweet lips,

blonde eyes wide open,

wh...

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Patch

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on October 6, 2011 at 8:55 AM Comments comments (2)

WARNING
Adult themes and language

Poem begins below






















Patch

-----------

 

I'd often wondered how it...

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Morning Joint

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on July 28, 2011 at 8:49 AM Comments comments (0)

I walk in the door, leaving behind the salty sour smell of the bay, rapidly replaced
by the smell of cheap syrup and char. Good cooking. A quick look about and
a glance at the single-serving cereals makes me shake my head, recalling my parents sighs of exasperation in 8-year-old ears.

The waitress is brash and hurried, behind the counter since 5.
"Two scrambled eggs, side of bacon, hash browns, rye toast and tea."

Through the large back window, the clack, sl...

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Morning Joint

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on July 28, 2011 at 8:49 AM Comments comments (0)

I walk in the door, leaving behind the salty sour smell of the bay, rapidly replaced
by the smell of cheap syrup and char. Good cooking. A quick look about and
a glance at the single-serving cereals makes me shake my head, recalling my parents sighs of exasperation in 8-year-old ears.

The waitress is brash and hurried, behind the counter since 5.
"Two scrambled eggs, side of bacon, hash browns, rye toast and tea."

Through the large back window, the clack, sl...

Read Full Post »

Road Map

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on May 28, 2011 at 5:49 PM Comments comments (0)

Road Map

Always seems to happen at night. In all fairness, that's usually when I AM out driving that small gladiatorial stretch just Jersey of the Ben Franklin, right before you realize you're in Camden. I think of rolling up the windows about there, but the Expressway sides feel bulletproof and seperate. I'm always coming back from somewhere too- my sister's, Esther, a friend's place, a con- whatever dragged me westward to the City of Brotherly Love.

Coming off the bridge,...

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Road Map

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on May 28, 2011 at 5:49 PM Comments comments (0)

Road Map

Always seems to happen at night. In all fairness, that's usually when I AM out driving that small gladiatorial stretch just Jersey of the Ben Franklin, right before you realize you're in Camden. I think of rolling up the windows about there, but the Expressway sides feel bulletproof and seperate. I'm always coming back from somewhere too- my sister's, Esther, a friend's place, a con- whatever dragged me westward to the City of Brotherly Love.

Coming off the bridge,...

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Night Shift

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on January 6, 2011 at 11:07 AM Comments comments (2)

Clock strikes 10 PM.

She's waiting at the window, her would-be bated breath

hazing a barrier before the cold outside. The hot chai heals her chapped, rough

hands. But he's working again tonight- it's her heart that needs to be put at ease.

Staring out into the snow-salted air, she can almost see him-

his breath billowing in steamy clouds,

hazing the air then sliced by siren and light.

Read Full Post »

Night Shift

Posted by CardSharkChef439 on January 6, 2011 at 11:07 AM Comments comments (0)

Clock strikes 10 PM.

She's waiting at the window, her would-be bated breath

hazing a barrier before the cold outside. The hot chai heals her chapped, rough

hands. But he's working again tonight- it's her heart that needs to be put at ease.

Staring out into the snow-salted air, she can almost see him-

his breath billowing in steamy clouds,

hazing the air then sliced by siren and light.

Read Full Post »