Today I planted four new trees, my goal is
to outlive each of them.
© Chagall ∞
Tag Archive: Health
Absent hypothetical lichens
perhaps have Tourettes … unlikely.
© Chagall ∞
I am obsessed and compulsed to consume
inordinate amounts of mint chocolate chip
anything really. I am wholly hooked.
© Chagall 2016
We all know what healthy tastes and feels like.
Stop being a chubby bastard and do the right thing.
$25.99 at better bookstores.
Chagall 2015
The doctor says she sees Q-Waves
there on my EKG, usually a sign
something bad has happened
to one’s heart. I tell her that
they’re probably there to say hello
to that day you went away. Now may I
put my blouse on?
© Chagall 2015
So far from the endless fields
of lavender once called home.
© Chagall 2015
No physical pain, we take for granted
but it’s such a blessed gift; our contented silence
is our cry of joy.
© Chagall 2015
Love you all,
have a great 2015!
Anyone know where
the after-party is?
© Chagall 2015
I do it again,
peel the gold-foil wrapping
from the neck of another
poem.
I extract the cork,
straight-up, briskly,
neatly.
Out of its element,
the poem first takes
small panting breaths.
I ignore it, pretend to be busy,
a séance with Rimbaud,
perhaps a sonnet of vowels.
It develops nose,
emotes terroir,
softens its tannins.
Does a verse and chorus
of Leonard Cohen’s
Hallelujah.
I swirl it and snort it and sip it and swish it and spit it
out and taste the lingering . . .
Berry, chocolate, tobacco, and leather,
hints of pollen and honey,
grand cru.
This sort is rarely a standalone varietal,
usually, rather, the base for a blend.
I lick every drop I see running,
with expert plucks of my tongue.
I sense the bottle is bottomless,
sugary, vintage, a great year for sure.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
sex sweat smoke beat
dance sex sweat smoke
beat dance sex sweat
smoke beat dance sex
sweat smoke beat dance
sexy sweaty smoky beat.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 