Caryn Lazzuri is Exhibitions Manager at the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, DC. Her essays and articles have appeared in Culinate and Museum, and her poetry has appeared in various print and online journals. She lives in Baltimore where she splits her time between art and books.
Everyone on this train is beautiful It’s one of those days my God man your hook nose is spectacular and your acne scars look great the way they emphasize your eyes what are you wearing you smell so good I just have to sit right down right down next to you and smile I’m like a bird hey feathers I really dig your earlobes what part of you can I touch in public that lady is looking she can come too No one has held me since winter I will take off my clothes right here for all of you I want you everyone in the world
I is for Invitation
After the rain the train and the people on the train are swollen we have too much we carve dead skin from our bodies soft and failing he says his dad has cancer he says Olivia left him but what he wants really is to say there are skylights in the new apartment new old pots and pans from Goodwill functioning bachelor he can see the moon he says Oh Caryn you should see this moon the train is so quiet in the almost winter rumbling north I say are you sad he says no I don’t feel that way he says come visit bring something elegant how long has it been the woman next to me is reading Kafka it’s been six years I don’t say anything the moonlight rains through the skylights he’s right about beauty although we can’t see it from here
Th is for Threesome
The day before our date I say Wait, Your wife?
Al, he says, I’m glad you asked (because I told him he could call me Al) and tells me of his fallout with monogamy.
Do they even make bicycles built for three? I’d ride the middle, feet on his shoulders, leaning back into Leah’s imagined, perfect tits.
The problem with fantasy is you try all night to be someone else and fail thank God
But I could be kissed goodnight all day
It feels good to be in my body pressed against the body of someone else’s husband
I gave myself permission to do nothing
I am thinking all the time about Free Love how to set Love free
There it goes through the field just now a raging hippie its energy is so damn good
I am too old to experiment— That’s untrue, but a good excuse to subtract this date by two
In the morning it’s easy to remember what a generous lover the sunrise is