Love and Other Poems

Love and Other Poems

by Alex Dimitrov

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Overview

More, How again after months there is awe. The most personal moment of the day appears unannounced. People wear leather. People refuse to die. There are strangers who look like they could know your name. And the smell of a bar on a cold night, or the sound of traffic as it follows you home. Sirens. Parties. How balconies hold us. Whatever enough is, it hasn't arrived. And on some dead afternoon when you'll likely forget this, as you browse through the vintage again and again-there it is, what everyone's given up just to stay here. Jeweled hairpins, scratched records, their fast youth. Everything they've given up to stay here and find more.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781556595998
Publisher: Copper Canyon Press
Publication date: 02/09/2021
Sales rank: 182,452
Product dimensions: 5.90(w) x 8.90(h) x 0.50(d)

About the Author

Alex Dimitrov is the author of Together and by Ourselves, Begging for It, and the online chapbook American Boys. With Dorothea Lasky, he is the co-author of Astro Poets: Your Guides to the Zodiac. He lives in New York City.

Read an Excerpt

August



So this is love. When it slows

the rain touches everyone on their way home.

Whatever was promised of pleasure

costs the body more than it has.

Perhaps they were right putting love into books…

to look at the sky without asking a question,

to look at the sea and know you won’t drown today.

Despite all our work, even the worst of life

has a place in memory. And the fixed hours

between two and five before evening

are the aimless future with someone

who cannot stay new. August returns us

to a gap in history where our errors

find the invention of a kinder regret.

Almost possible: to believe these days

will change more than us but the past too.

Which is blue and without end.

A long drive toward a remembered place.

A secret left on a beach. Underwater

where the voices of summer are tones of speech,

requiring less of the mind. The familiar creaks

in the old floorboards. Glasses left out in the storm.

Our handwritten lists with every illegible worry

and more. The person you think of

despite their cruelty. The sun and its cruelty.

How it’s kept its distance and kept us alive.

Not needing to know anything about what we do

with the rest of desire.




More


How again after months there is awe.

The most personal moment of the day

appears unannounced. People wear leather.

People refuse to die. There are strangers

who look like they could know your name.

And the smell of a bar on a cold night,

or the sound of traffic as it follows you home.

Sirens. Parties. How balconies hold us.

Whatever enough is, it hasn’t arrived.

And on some dead afternoon

when you’ll likely forget this,

as you browse through the vintage

again and again—there it is,

what everyone’s given up

just to stay here. Jeweled hairpins,

scratched records, their fast youth.

Everything they’ve given up

to stay here and find more.




Places I've Contemplated Suicide or Sent Nudes From


My bed

The bathrooms at the Frederick Hotel

Cabs

The 7-Eleven on 74th and 1st

The Museum of Modern Art

The Museum of Modern Art’s Robert Gober opening in 2014

My writing desk

The stairwells of so many buildings

An elevator once

My favorite wine bar (which I won’t actually name)

A few times at a friend’s place

(a friend I used to sleep with

a friend who used to be a friend)

Central Park

The Marlton Hotel

The Plaza

The Starbucks on 75th and 1st

My bathtub

My bathroom

My very sad kitchen


in which I never cook

and look


how this is no longer

a list poem.


I wonder if anyone can actually tell what I am.


I wonder why it is they keep looking.


I wonder why they keep looking

and asking me to disappear at the same time.

Table of Contents

Sunset on 14th Street 3

I

Living on Earth 9

Dark Matter 10

1969 12

Waiting at Stonewall 13

Time 15

Love 16

Once 26

June 27

River Phoenix 29

Summer Solstice 30

July 31

The Sun 32

New Moon 33

August 34

II

My Secret 37

Impermanence 39

Golden Record 40

Rehearsals 44

September 45

Pale Blue Dot 46

Zenith 48

October 49

Yes 50

No 51

November 52

Full Moon 54

A True Account of Talking to the Moon at Fire Island 55

More 58

III

Having a Diet Coke with You 61

For the Critics 63

New York 64

Weldon Kees 70

December 71

Poem for the Reader 72

Winter Solstice 73

January 74

LSD 75

Poem Composed on a Ouija Board 76

February 77

Places I've Contemplated Suicide or Sent Nudes From 78

Ether 80

IV

Rehearsals for Utopia 83

Orlando 84

American Life 85

Blue Marble 86

March 87

History 88

The Weather of Our Lives 89

April 90

Immortality 91

Poem without God 92

May 93

Suddenly, Summer 94

To Everything 95

Notes for My Funeral 96

V

Poem Written in a Cab 99

Notes 115

Acknowledgments 117

About the Author 119

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