Idioms (Day 27)

Starve a cold, bite
        the hand that feeds you. No,
never injure the provider. They won’t
provide for you anymore – 3 days in the
hospital or Medicare won’t pick up
grandma’s bill, no matter how much she

            The righteous feed on the
body of Christ, someone on the A train
basks in Cherokee legends. I listen to
Phosphorescent at night
and he sings about being fucked up
and then sober again.

            It’s a feeding frenzy here,
Spring in the city, overrun. The Great
Lawn is mobbed. We give ourselves
into it, becoming part of the throng.


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