~thank u Jenny for the commission~
———
I Wish:(1)
it’s been a while since they culled the herds
in my neighborhood
on the posh posh Upper East Side,^
in fact, ole Natty,
had to look up culling to be sure he really remembered
its so practical meaning,
til J. refracts this titled phrase,
and here I am @4:10am,
culling sighs
again
not hard to guess,
I’m both a prodigious
sigher
and user of
four letter words
when a sigh just won’t do
writ a lot poem stuffing;
but truth be told
(which~when stated, means that nice person is likely lying)
you could take every turkey overcooked
on Thanksgiving day
stuff’em
with all the sigh-sins in/of my life
that I unbeknownst to me, Naturally,
were being kept in the storage closet,
until they flooded the basement,
and I was told, very poshly,
them or me,
had to
giddiup on outta here
but on a serious note,
(nah, never)
should we, us,
take a day to commemorate our
profusions of delusions,
teary eyed moments,
chest pained issuances
from a manipulative tv show,
or aa sad, sad, melancholy
mellow melodious, bellowing,
poem(?),
when contemplating the preponderance of things that
makes us think, of the abouts, which we can do nothing,
with copious exhalations a/k/a big big sighs,
another ingenious decision by our procreative semi~human designer,
so we could all claim,
we would all be very rich
in something…
and secretly we cull them sighs,
witch earns your an ascot scrip for anti depressant meds,
when the lover who-was-is not-now-anymore,
because humans get bored or some other reason stoopingly stupid,
“reason,”
when the ones who truly loved you no-matter-what
have to depart,
and them,
are always, well kept, neatly numbered,
in the right side of our brain^^,
in an area some call their treasury,
ready to be summoned either
on a quik calling up,
or a tortured slow volcanic upheaval,
when we recall too well
the most human side of being human,
and the sighs are just in waiting,
left wet in the tissues we’ve kept,
as commemorative
keepsakes
so,
indeed we do cull our tears,
they do not get gone with the wind,
in fact,
many come to reside here,
like the single,
accompanied by,
the-single-tear
I have just
shed, writ,
and will do so
again/again/again
<nml>
4:56am/Tue/11/11/25
Nov 12, 2025
Nov 12, 2025 at 3:36 PM UTC
~thank u Jenny for the commission~
———
I Wish:(1)
it’s been a while since they culled the herds
in my neighborhood
on the posh posh Upper East Side,^
in fact, ole Natty,
had to look up culling to be sure he really remembered
its so practical meaning,
til J. refracts this titled phrase,
and here I am @4:10am,
culling sighs
again
not hard to guess,
I’m both a prodigious
sigher
and user of
four letter words
when a sigh just won’t do
writ a lot poem stuffing;
but truth be told
(which~when stated, means that nice person is likely lying)
you could take every turkey overcooked
on Thanksgiving day
stuff’em
with all the sigh-sins in/of my life
that I unbeknownst to me, Naturally,
were being kept in the storage closet,
until they flooded the basement,
and I was told, very poshly,
them or me,
had to
giddiup on outta here
but on a serious note,
(nah, never)
should we, us,
take a day to commemorate our
profusions of delusions,
teary eyed moments,
chest pained issuances
from a manipulative tv show,
or aa sad, sad, melancholy
mellow melodious, bellowing,
poem(?),
when contemplating the preponderance of things that
makes us think, of the abouts, which we can do nothing,
with copious exhalations a/k/a big big sighs,
another ingenious decision by our procreative semi~human designer,
so we could all claim,
we would all be very rich
in something…
and secretly we cull them sighs,
witch earns your an ascot scrip for anti depressant meds,
when the lover who-was-is not-now-anymore,
because humans get bored or some other reason stoopingly stupid,
“reason,”
when the ones who truly loved you no-matter-what
have to depart,
and them,
are always, well kept, neatly numbered,
in the right side of our brain^^,
in an area some call their treasury,
ready to be summoned either
on a quik calling up,
or a tortured slow volcanic upheaval,
when we recall too well
the most human side of being human,
and the sighs are just in waiting,
left wet in the tissues we’ve kept,
as commemorative
keepsakes
so,
indeed we do cull our tears,
they do not get gone with the wind,
in fact,
many come to reside here,
like the single,
accompanied by,
the-single-tear
I have just
shed, writ,
and will do so
again/again/again
<nml>
4:56am/Tue/11/11/25
^
The area around what is now Sutton Place was a gritty, industrial area with factories, breweries, and slaughterhouses nearby in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, before its transformation into an affluent residential enclave.
Specifically:
In the late 19th century, the neighborhood was a slum area known as "Claremont".
The riverfront was occupied by industrial businesses, including breweries and coal yards.
Slaughterhouses were clustered along First Avenue, just to the west of the current Sutton Place area, particularly between 43rd and 45th streets, in an area later cleared to build the United Nations headquarters.
Wealthy socialites, such as Anne Harriman Vanderbilt and Anne Morgan, began building grand townhouses in the area in the 1920s, intentionally turning their living rooms and gardens to face the East River (and the private gardens they created) and away from the industrial activity on First Avenue, which helped to transform the area's reputation
^^
The right side of the brain is primarily associated with non-verbal, creative, and emotional functions, such as visual-spatial processing, face recognition, imagination, musical ability, and an understanding of emotions and tone
(1)
every poem, a prayer
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