THERMOS 2: Michael Comstock

Reading a poem by Michael Comstock is one of my favorite ways to spend a minute. Even a very old poem by Michael Comstock. — AS


Home Movies

They come calling, they who

mystery. Very aware of the light

doll, the house where we all

recycled dates. We all create

clock, a number of notes called remember

thunder? It followed

church. If there is a second chance

enchant her, write back in bliss




I repeat hit
the tiny
of the sky
says a friend     oh

the sky       How

I repeat hit
blink                  A sun
Leaves out, flowers

out You are sporty
dear Drumming

circles     This appear


The Internet

This is hello, a towards-crown motion of hands. Hello, this is
just to say hello world why. This is Steve: Hello. Older gals
need lovin’ too. Sure. 
Terry: Why not? Care
to share a story? 
Steve: No, I… This is “Hello”
by Lionel Ritchie, and this is hello in each of the official
languages of South Africa. This is hello, your smile
gets my heart pounding [sound f/x:
fangirls screaming]. This is hello.pdf.
This is hello, I don’t know what I have to do
with all peace, and this is hello
hello, a super software
from which I am posting hello, like I am
like hello a little green halo.



“I Can’t Be Me” going out
the opened window with

the day’s hey
blowing in.

It’s afternoonish I don’t notice
the planes spaced out

for LaGuardia. Live on
how many dollars

a day? Move close
to water: Gowanus

or Greenpoint wherever.
No more March

April, just a lot of Mays
I swear I’ll pay back

next winter. X and Y
please move here,

hated friends
go ’way.


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