30 Licks

 

30 Licks 80 x 80 x 1,8 cm - mixed media on canvas

 

 

 

ENOUGH

 

Lately I prefer experience

portioned out like chicken nuggets,

i.e., in manageable chunks. Do not super-

size our life, I say, winking sarcastically

while shaving a last few stubborn hairs. 

I know some smallish towns that have

one of everything. Or two or three

or six. It’s always a question of appetite.

   Three miniscule pizzerias, say, 

   squeezed into

a baroque piazza’s mid-sized space. We know a woman

who maximizes all offers. She can leave

a salad bar in ruins. Or a man’s heart though

swearing she only wanted his penis. All You Can Eat

becoming I Can Eat All Of You. It’s possible to be

addicted to anything. Even desirable.

The third season of Madmen.  

Someone’s ridiculously attractive if sort of

scary smile. Because it is scary, because it seems

to promise more meaning than we can tolerate. Riding really

fast down a mountain side on a piece of technology

that will never go fast enough. Until it’s riding you.

Until it’s wrapped neatly around your neck.