In NEW YORK, before loud hordes pollute each day, and in MUNICH, before tourists take dumps on the canvas — and in any place I find myself with a café or diner open early enough — I avail myself of public solitude.
Some words on ‘mornings’… by Jeff Glovsky
* * *
Not to be confused with
a short Story by Jglo
In the Midtown bar, the blonde ignores surroundings, blithely chatting on a cellphone, like she’s home alone, or might as well be.
Unlike she, I’ve got no one to talk to. Sitting with the gloaming outside, loud annoying noise within. My head, the music bleeding, pounds right through me, thoughts (not there) receding…
Empty. I look up, and down. The room spins.
No one hears me fall.
by Jeff Glovsky
Without getting too deep into things, 2016 saw personal struggles with marriage, with money, with illness, pain, homelessness… precipitous advances in cancer, dementia, severe crippling arthritis… benign yet troubling bouts of forgetfulness, Parkinson’s disease and, two times, death.
At the end of the day, we have only ourselves to believe, allay fears… or regretfully blame. The choice is (y)ours with each passing new year.
Have a Happy in 2017.
Let’s choose wisely.
“Next Year“, ©Jeff Glovsky
Notes on a Half Life - A 50th Birthday Year in Review by Jeff Glovsky
Hipster Posts Selfie As Phife Dawg
American Man in London Soils Himself, Looking for Lou
Nonsense!… on NewsBiscuit
by Jeff Glovsky
Twee: The Gentle Revolution in Music, Books, Television, Fashion, and Film by Marc Spitz
I’d been confused about this “movement” for some time – The sometimes lazy, often fearful, hyper-emotional misfits demanding the coddling of their helicoptered childhoods to continue well past sell-by dates, into their collective twenties and thirties.
A weird skinny lumberjack beard or two later, these (wo)men-children have been, somewhat insultingly, labeled “Twee”…
R e v i e w sby Jeff Glovsky
A
disgusting filth animal
violates me … My space, my face
as he coughs
into it.
As I walk past, see
him suck his lungs in, throw his
head back, rancidly exhale …
Feel the sick and hear the
wetness gurgle
deep and
through
me.
COVER. YOUR. MOUTH.
by Jeff Glovsky
