So I can't avoid it either
I found a book for my sister about old and new lace
A testament to Savoy's Queen Margherita
Not Savoy Massachusetts but Savoia, Italy
The author a woman named Cora from Chicago, 1893
My mother never ate yogurt
And brought home the bread in a white waxed bag
I swear the milk takes hours to cool
No more B-Is now it's hotter than hell
Milk down to 159°, watch and sit still
There's always the crack in the world to excite me
It
goes down to China and then to infinity
Yesterday I got a letter from a friend who's a whore
I don't mean a proletarian streetwalker
But a prostituter of meanings
Of fears about old money
Sickness and old age
Now the silly moon is rising again
That paper tiger, I knew her when
Luckily no letters at all today
Only a note of thanks and a little gas bill
Things to do with milk, ice cream
I heard the tourists coming in my dreams
I couldn't sleep, I saw a big bear
The biggest wind blew the blue curtain into the bed
It
was hot as milk, has the milk now shrunk
We've left 22 men on Elephant Island
Slept only three hours in nine days
I am the leader, at least I can read
While the heat subsides:
This veil belonged to the Empress who paid no bills
"Her love of airiness and simplicity in the use of Indian mull, so
resembling lace"
I appeal to the cool and lacy milk
"Designs in fine linen lawn not light enough to satisfy her
fancy "
This queen has a very fat neck
