Wednesday, December 29, 2010


the late billy little's poems are at Zonko'd

Mama

thanks for
the swallowtail,

thanks for the smell of the species iris

thanks for the lilac's attack

thanks for the ears

that hear the heron's hoarse compleynt,

the raptors' whistles the loons' hilarity,

thanks for the lips whispering thanks for the tongue

thanks for the kicks thanks for the kisser

and thanks for the nose that brings me back

to the herb and the rose thanks for the womb

thanks for the fingers thanks for the toes

thanks for the coming and going

thanks for teeth chatterin ice cool life



The Real American Pie | Feature | Chicago Reader
The mince pie we speak of here bears only passing resemblance to present-day mincemeat pie, that gooey vegetarian article sitting next to the store-bought gingerbread men at office holiday parties. The mincemeat savored by our forebears was made with actual meat (beef, typically, or sometimes venison), flavored with substantial quantities of booze (usually brandy but sometimes rum and/or Madeira)...