currently the new year rolls in
but had you gotten up high enough
weeks ago
you would have looked east, and
felt it, if not seen it

this cyclic existence is something to
break from,
but facing the wave
so many hear, “stay”

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Résumé / Michael Kwack

Love is, like art,

dull without passion.

Marriage is, like enterprise,

vain without fortune.

Home is, like a chair,

awkward without comfort.

Life is, like sleep,

hollow without a dream.

Death* is, like a letter,

absurd without a story.

  *Death means suicide.

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little NYC hotel on 23rd street (1980s)

our little

leo house hotel

on 23rd street

was operated by Sisters of St. Agnes

an old time hotel

an elevator with

brass  scissor gates

operated by a nun

separate hot

and cold faucets

a bath/ shower/bath

clad in white subway tile

a crucifix over our bed

spied on our lovemaking

blessing our ...

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