Two Hundred and Thirty-Seven.


Izzy circle


today I am a pillar.

not of salt
not of strength
just a tall, fat fucking pole –
a vertical line on the horizon

and you can see me.


Sarah circle


raise your glasses, boys!
a toast! l’chaim! to life!
to song! to women!
to girls in bikinis on rainy saturdays!
to temple bar waitresses with their hair coming down!
to beauty queens who can’t answer the questions!
to fifteen year olds with ancient eyes!
to our mothers on their wedding nights!
to the girls on the train nibbling their fingers!
to marilyn and katherine and audrey and grace!
to choir girls who close their eyes when they sing!
to figure skaters in outfits that don’t cover their arses!
to hookers with mastectomies two decades old!
to ingénues at music festivals in oversize gumboots!
to visions in samovars floating on steam!
to ladies in burqas and Louis Vuitton boots!
to the women of earth, lads!
long may we love them!



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