The Best American Poetry

Two Poems (by Mitch Sisskind)

Explosion

An explosion is always right because 
Gramps can't argue with an explosion.
If he starts up at Thanksgiving dinner 
You and him might argue but he can't
Argue with an explosion you set off.

Same thing as when Gramps buys 
A cell phone and you have to set off 
An explosion or when Gramps goes
On a trip down memory lane again 
You have to set off an explosion. 

What if Gramps keeps continuously 
Bungling old time expressions like
It is two sides of the same horse?
You must set off another explosion,
You got to so stop your blubbering.

Sleepless

Gramps is scared that he might 
Forget his Social Security Number
So tossing and turning like a ship 
Heavy laden he keeps reciting 
His Social Security Number to
Himself until the casement glows
A glimmering square (Tennyson.)

 

from "Duke Rhino," a work in progress [by Mitch Sisskind]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Louie Balin
When my nephew Norb Berlowitz was drafted into the army,
Norb’s younger brother Seymour enrolled at the University of
Wisconsin. That was in 1943. 

If there was no father in the home, the government at that time
wasn’t drafting two brothers from the same family. There was
no father in Norb and Seymour’s home. My sister Lenore was
the boys’ mother. Lenore and I raised Norb and Seymour after
Lenore’s husband, Moe Berlowitz, abruptly disappeared. Moe
happened to be a professional magician so there was a bit of
humor in his disappearance.

We lived in an apartment on Douglas Boulevard with my other
sister, Bess Turk – her husband also disappeared – and Grandma
Minnie, the bubbe. Grandpa Victor had long since passed away

By the end of the war the bubbe too had passed away, Seymour
had joined a fraternity at the University of Wisconsin and Norb
was back from Europe after getting badly wounded fighting the
Nazis. I was doing well at the Harrison Wholesale Company with
my partner Albert Arenberg. The summer was hot so we sold lots
of fans.

Early in 1946 my secretary Evelyn Modeen caught the flu and she
decided to stop working. This was a shock. I took her out to lunch
and said, “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

She said, “Oh, you’ll manage just fine.”

I put an ad in the Tribune for a private secretary. I knew I would hire
the first person who came in. I just wanted to get it over with. The last
time I ran an ad in the Tribune Evelyn Modeen was the first person who
came in and she was at Harrison Wholesale for ten years.

A woman named Leah Esken came in. She didn’t call, she just came in
. Evelyn Modeen talked with her for a minute and then brought her over
to me. 

I don’t have a private office, just a desk among all the other desks. There’s
a little wooden fence with a gate around my desk so I stood up when she
came through the gate. 

She was an attractive woman. Without even thinking about it I remarked
that she looked like the actress Barbara Stanwyck. 

‘Oh, from Double Indemnity. Thank you, that’s so flattering.’ 

Then she added, “You look a little like Edward G. Robinson!”

“Not Fred MacMurray?” We both laughed. 

“Barbara Stanwyck was an orphan,” I said. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always
liked her. I was an orphan too.’

Why was I talking about Barbara Stanwyck and being an orphan? Leah
already seemed like an old friend or a member of the family.

She asked, “Were you in an orphanage?” 

“Yes, in Cleveland. The Jewish Orphan’s Home.”

“Did you ever think of running away?”

“Never. It was a wonderful place. We played baseball every day. In the
winter we played inside.”

I showed Leah around the Harrison Wholesale building. Almost anything
you could imagine was there. “Customers come in with catalogs and give
their orders to the order pickers,” I said. “The order pickers find the items
and bring them down to the customers. It looks messy but that’s the whole
idea. This isn’t Marshall Fields on State Street. It’s supposed to be a secret
place, like a speakeasy.”

“Your wife must like this place. She can get anything she wants, right?”

‘Oh, I’m not married.’

Leah looked hesitant. Maybe she thought my wife had died.

I said, “I’ve just never been married.” I wanted to sound reassuring. Back
at my desk I thanked Leah for coming in and gave the latest Harrison
Wholesale catalog

She said, “Thanks but we already have a catalog. My brother-in-law
Irving was here the other day and bought some tire chains. I live with
Irving and my sister Dorothy.'

That was all. I walked her to the door. 

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Balin,” she said. 

“Well, you’ve got the job.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leah Esken
Dorothy and Irving got married in 1939. Nate, who is younger
than Dorothy and I, got married to Ina Kirsch in 1938. He was
just eighteen years old and Ina was seventeen. If they’d had
children before the war started, Nate would not have gotten
drafted. But it was only after Nate returned from Texas and
started Same Day Cleaners that Ann gave birth to Shula and
Myrna, the twin girls. 

During the war years Dorothy and I worked at the torpedo factory
in Forest Park. That’s where she met Irving, who was not drafted
because he worked at the torpedo factory. Thousands of people
worked there but not too many Jews. I had a few boyfriends but I
could never be serious about a non-Jew.

I shared an apartment in Douglas Park with Dorothy, Irving, and
Nate’s wife Ina. It was only a few blocks from where Louie lived
with his sisters but of course I didn’t know that at the time. Dorothy
got pregnant when the war still had a year to go but as soon as it
was over Dorothy, Irving, and I moved to an apartment at Cornelia
and Halsted on the North Side. Dorothy’s baby Victor was only about
six months old. Then Nate returned from Texas and also moved to the
North Side with Ina. He started Same Day Cleaners. 

Nate thought Irving was not good enough for Dorothy. He said Dorothy
had settled for Irving. He told me not to make the same mistake. He
said I was smarter and better looking than Dorothy and I shouldn’t
settle for some nudnik. 

Meanwhile Nate had twin girls, Dorothy had a husband and a baby who was
almost a year old, and I had nothing even though I was the oldest. I was
waitressing at the Walnut Room in Marshall Fields and helping Dorothy with Victor. 

When I saw the want-ad for Harrison Wholesale I thought I would give it a try.
Why not? I knew nothing about being a secretary but I was a good student at
Austin High School. I could certainly read and write.

When I met Louie at the interview I was surprised that he wasn’t wearing a
wedding ring. But Jewish men don’t always wear one. 

I was more surprised when he said he had never been married. 

I was also surprised that he didn’t have a private office. He didn’t need an office
but he needed a private secretary.

I wasn’t surprised when he told me I had the job. I was glad to hear it though. 

I saw a new world opening for me in the interview at Harrison Wholesale.
I didn’t see every little detail yet, but so what? It was more like a dream that
you remember the next morning and you know it will come true. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rabbi Frankenstein 
I first met Louie Balin when I was invited to Chicago to audition
for the office of associate rabbi at the old Washington Boulevard
Temple. I conducted High Holy Day services and I met some
prominent members of the congregation, including Louie. Well,
I passed the test. My family and I were soon on our way to the
Windy City.

Although I’d had my own pulpit in New Orleans, I was intrigued
by the possibilities in the North. Chicago’s Jewish community –
second largest in the United States – was in transition both
physically and financially. In the first years of the twentieth century,
large numbers of Jews who had been born in the Maxwell Street
ghetto migrated northwest to the West Side area around Douglas
Boulevard and Roosevelt Road. For several decades all was well
and good. During the 1940s and 1950’s, however, owing to racial
and economic changes on the West Side, a new, two-pronged
migration began. Middle class Jews, financially stable but not
necessarily wealthy, recreated the West Side in Rogers Park, or
they became pioneers in suburban Skokie and Lincolnwood.
Those who could afford it, meanwhile, moved close to the lakefront,
forming a high net-worth Jewish population along North Lake Shore
Drive and Sheridan Road.

While all this was taking place, the Washington Boulevard Temple
had found a new location and a revised identity as the Oak Park Temple,
moving decisively in the discretion of Reform Judaism. I wholeheartedly
endorsed this trend. 

Suddenly the position of senior rabbi at Temple Sholom became available.
This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Temple Sholom, on North Lake
Shore Drive, was and remains one of the premier Reform Jewish
congregations in America, comparable to Temple Emanu-el in New York
City. Furthermore, as well-to-do Jews from the West Side were relocating
to the lakefront, there was a chance to greatly enlarge Temple Sholom’s
membership and financial base. In the eyes of Temple Sholom’s Board
of Directors, this should be a top priority for a new Senior Rabbi. I promised 
the Board that I shared this goal and I also described exactly how I would
achieve it. 

Once again, thank God I passed the test. Departing the Oak Park Temple
was painful, but like Abraham in the Book of Genesis I felt called to leave
where I was and go to the place that was shown to me. 

I immediately made changes at Temple Sholom to attract the affluent new
arrivals from the West Side. I replaced the traditional siddur with the Reform
Jewish Union Prayer Book. I replaced Friday night services with Sunday
morning worship, although I did retain Shabbat observance for those few
who wished to take part. I entirely dispensed with aliyot. I incorporated
orchestral and vocal accompaniment into the Sunday services and very
fully into the High Holidays. Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah remained
available, but group confirmation for fifteen year olds became the preferred
choice. 

Louie Balin had been an early arrival on the lakefront, having left the West
Side right after his marriage to Leah in late 1946. I’d had the merit of performing
their ceremony at the Oak Park Temple, and when Louie mentioned his plans
to relocate I assumed we were parting ways for good. But when I scanned the
membership rolls at Temple Sholom, I was happy to see Louie’s name. I called
immediately and invited him to come in for a chat.

To make a long story short, Louie wound up commissioning a new Torah scroll
for the Temple as well as a beautiful stained glass window with a scene from the
Book of Ruth. Louie also assured me that his son Irwin, less than a year old at
the time, would in due course enroll in our Sunday school with an intention of
continuing all the way through confirmation. Last but not least, Louie paid
membership dues for his sisters Bess Turk and Lenore Berlowitz, who were now
also living in our neighborhood, as well for Louie’s nephews Norb and Seymour Berlowitz.

From a work in progress [by Mitch Sisskind]

The dry cleaning business was extremely important on my mother's
side of the family. My Uncle Nate hadn't been a combat soldier like
Norb Berlowitz, but Nate had still been in the army during the war. 
He was assigned to a snack bar at a large training base in Texas. 
When he left the army Uncle Nate opened a store called Same Day 
Cleaners which specialized in dry cleaning police uniforms and any
other clothing owned by policemen or their families. If you were a 
policeman or related to one, or even just a friend of a policeman, 
you could get your clothes dry cleaned at a discount by Same Day
Cleaners. Uncle Nate wasn't stingy about who got the discounts.
The discounts were a way of getting people into the Same Day
Cleaners stores. 

The Harrison Wholesale Company used a discount method similar 
to Same Day Cleaners but on a larger scale. If you wanted to buy 
something at Harrison Wholesale, you could see the official price on
a page in the Harrison Wholesale catalog. If you looked to the left of
the official price you would see some numbers that were a code for
the discounted price. All you needed to obtain the discount was a 
Harrison Wholesale card, which was easy to get. It was just a matter
of asking for one.

Harrison Wholesale was much bigger than Same Day Cleaners.
There were several Harrison Wholesale stores around Chicago
and also stores in Milwaukee, Indianapolis, and Cleveland. Same
Day Cleaners had only two stores, both on the North Side of Chicago,
which annoyed Uncle Nate. It also annoyed him that my father was
bombed by a blimp in World War One and Norb Berlowitz had been
wounded in World War Two. My mother said that was why Uncle Nate
started wearing a gun in his belt at Same Day Cleaners and why he
wanted to be palzy-walzy with policemen. He was also rather short.  

Uncle Irving, Aunt Dorothy's husband, had never been in the army
but he didn't care. He was a good athlete who could stand on his
head and then switch into a handstand. Uncle Irving had a dry cleaning 
store on Halsted Street but Uncle Nate viewed it as a small time operation
that was barely scraping by. He wanted Uncle Irving to start working at
Same Day Cleaners, and maybe eventually he would become a store
manager. 

Meanwhile my mother would badger my father about giving Uncle
Irving a manager's job at Harrison Wholesale. Finally my father agreed,
except Uncle Irving and his family would have to move to Cleveland.
However, Uncle Irving was too proud to close his dry cleaning store in
spite of the offers from Uncle Nate and my father. It was a source of
tension on my mother's side of the family.

When my mother and Aunt Dorothy went to look for porcelain figurines,
sometimes Victor and I stayed at Victor's house but usually we went
along. My mother drove our 1952 Cadillac with Aunt Dorothy beside her
and with us in the back seat. How long and boring those rides were, all
the way into Wisconsin or Indiana searching for antique stores. Victor
and I played a game where the first person who saw a car with an out of 
state license plate was allowed to hit the other person. There were hardly
any of those licenses in Wisconsin or Indiana. 

My mother and Aunt Dorothy never stopped talking during the long drives 
and sometimes they got into arguments. Once my mother said that Aunt
Dorothy should tell Uncle Irving that he should accept my father's offer of
a job at Harrison Wholesale in Cleveland. 

Aunt Dorothy said, "Leah, Irv has his heart set on keeping the plant open,"

"The plant? That's a good one!" my mother laughed. "Meanwhile you're
ironing grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner." It was a joke in the family
that Aunt Dorothy made grilled cheese sandwiches using a hand iron.

"Well, not everyone marries her rich boss like you did," Aunt Dorothy said,
but not angrily. It was more like she would start to cry.

"You're right about that, Dorothy, and before I married a rich man I was 
working full-time and also changing Victor's diapers in the middle of 
the night. Don't forget that. And since I married a rich man you're getting
a check from him every month. And you're not the only one. Lenore 
Berlowitz, Bess Turk, Seymour Berlowitz, they're all schnorers. Norb 
Berlowitz is the only one who ever shows any appreciation. Lou even 
endowed a research laboratory at Michael Reese Hospital. We went 
down to see it and they were doing research on tapeworms. I got 
nauseated. Lou pays college tuition for kids in the middle of nowhere.
I don't even know how that happens. We get letters from kids in 
Kentucky saying thanks for paying for me to go to college. At least 
they write a letter. Seymour Berlowitz never wrote a letter about 
the University of Wisconsin. These people treat Lou like a smorgasbord."

Aunt Dorothy was quietly sobbing into a kleenex. It was true that
she had crossed a boundary by accusing my mother of marrying 
for money. But it was time for my mother to quiet down. What if 
Aunt Dorothy got angry instead of just crying? Of course she knew
about my adoption. Did she know about my mother's illness?

But my mother wasn't finished. "I have to tell you something, Dorothy,
and I'm only saying it because things have to change. There are times
when people drop off a load of dry cleaning at Irving's store and 
because Irving doesn't even have enough money to buy solvents
Irving has to take the load to another dry cleaner. He actually has 
to do that, so then when Irving finally gets paid then the money goes straight
back to the other dry cleaner. And do you know who the other dry cleaner
is, Dorothy? It's Same Day Cleaners. Nate told me this himself. Irving is
paying Nate to do his dry cleaning. We all know he's a shtunk but 
Nate was completely flabbergasted."

There were times my mother stayed in bed for days, lying on her back with 
her arm over her eyes. That always frightened me, and it was happening
more often. But other times she would really step on the gas. We were 
going at least seventy on a two-lane highway. 

"Mom...." I said. But she didn't hear me.

"I understand that Irving doesn't want to work for Nate. I wouldn't want
to work for Nate either. Okay, so work for Harrison Wholesale. You have
to go to Cleveland but that won't be forever. Lou can't bring Irving 
in as a manager starting tomorrow. Norb Berlowitz worked for two 
years as an order picker."

"Mom...."

Suddenly Aunt Dorothy erupted. "You knew just what you were
doing when you went to work at Harrison Wholesale, Leah! You even
told me what your goddamned plan was!"

I looked at Victor helplessly. He had an idea. The Cadillac provided a
cigarette lighter in the back seat. Victor grabbed my arm and burned
it with the cigarette lighter. Of course I shrieked but at least it got
their attention. My mother swerved the car to the side of the road. 
Now they were both screaming at Victor. He just sat there. He had
sacrificed himself. I rubbed my scalded arm. They were making
a federal case out of it, as my father would say.

Mitch Sisskind presents "The Big Bang," a poem by Nevin Schreiner

A poem by my writer friend of many years --

The Big Bang
 
This took place when they were half asleep
The way you look when you roll over and say Huh?
Dead brained, dream soaked
Lava eyed.
 
While engaged in making a baby
Neither spoke much
Or cared much what the other might say
With the exception of what you wouldn’t exactly call
                                         language
Like:  Oh fuck, Oh Jesus, and the like.
 
They were eighteen.
Collectively, thirty six
Heaving away
Breath, sweat, skin, whatnot
Mingled like Japanese cars after a collision
Limp airbags littering
The  floor
The tv howling away
Someone banging on the ceiling or wall.
 
Nine months later
Sandor Fox arrived
His name a presumptive chariot
Air for a helium zeppelin
A city map
(Instead of a City)
Sprawled on a kitchen table
Or was it a restaurant booth
Amidst red formica dots
Atop laminated
Photographs of eggs.
 
He cried his little lungs out
To be born an American
At the end of
The age of glory
The age America made up
Looking in its mirror that said
Made in Japan,
Crying like a little sewing machine
A cloister, a swift
Soughing wind,
A piece of damp angel food cake
An overcarobonated 7 up.
 
Sandor Fox
 
Born under a pile of bills
Believing in food
Warmth, tits,
Believing in doctors, clergymen
Taxidermy, Congress,
Thinking about five to four
Supreme Court decisions,
Consumed by a need to assert himself
On the next available nipple.
 
The road not taken
Running through his new house,
Animist furniture
Sprouting strange life between velour couch cushions
And he,  Sandor, a cyclone
Whirling inside the mirror of his parents eyes
He’s wet
They’re fat
The family has cloistered itself in re-sold ideas
Shoveling its past into plastic bags
Confronting its future with Glade.
 
Sandor. Sandor. What should we do with you?
Hope of our hope.
Destroyer of nakedness.
Curer of dreams.
What should we do when you wake crying at 2 am
With your parents silently growing in their beds?
When you scream at four am,
The hour dreams are packed up for the night.
When your own tiny brain revolves in your skull
Like the dawn sky, emptying itself of stars?
What should we think about you?
What should we do?
 
I know.
We’ll meet on the street
And I’ll say, Sandor,
Do you realize what we have in common?
We both come from the Big Bang.
No, Silly, not that one,
Not that wet tumbling and rumbling
And fighting and slithering
And skidding, evulsing and sliming:
 
The other one.
 
-- Nevin Schreiner

from the archive; first posted August 26, 2012

Limbo [by Mitch Sisskind]

 

 

Limbo is a place or an idea that crops

Up fairly often like if you're in Starbucks

Someone will say I'm in limbo about it

Or I was in limbo about it until recently.

But what do we really mean by limbo

Or by in limbo since limbo itself is

Pretty much always preceded by in?

You almost never hear limbo alone.

At one time I thought limbo meant

The same thing as between a rock

And a hard place so you could say

That if you didn't want to say limbo.

But between a rock and a hard place

Implies a certain amount of tension

Like when you pull on both ends of

A rubber band which is unlike limbo.

The whole idea of limbo is how there's

No tension or no energy of any sort

And limbo is just kind of lying there

Like when there's flotsam and jetsam.

Instead of limbo you might also say

Six of one half a dozen of another or

Hobson's Choice whatever that is but

None of them are exactly like limbo.

Now do you see what I'm getting at?

Do you see how by writing these lines

About limbo that are in limbo themselves

I've shown you what limbo is instead of

Only just telling you about limbo?

Because it's hard to define limbo

Like it's hard to define the color blue

So you tell them to look at the sky.

'Beautiful women like to look in the mirror...' [by Mitch Sisskind]

Beautiful women like to look in the mirror
For long periods of time sometimes hours
So if you ever manage to land one of them
Be ready to sit solitary at the television set
All afternoon long and on into the night.

Here's another thing to know about them.
They will try on every article of clothing
In the closet before venturing out into
The world so when you finally return
There's a big pile of clothes on the bed.

What if you hear a wolf whistle while
You and her are out walking? Okay
Write something on a piece of paper
And while the degenerate looks at it
You suddenly kick him in the balls.

One upside of the whole thing is how
If she's beautiful enough you can get
Comped in expensive restaurants like
Happened to me and her do you want
To know where? Okay. Wolfgang Puck.

What Makes a Restaurant Great? [by Mitch Sisskind]

So many evenings in the early 80s I made my way along Bennett Avenue, past Yeshiva Samson Raphael Hirsch (familiarly known for some reason as "Breuer's," with D. Lehman a proud alum) to 181st Street and the Hilltop Restaurant, pictured above.

I must digress for a moment. I once watched a television interview of former Chicago Bears player and coach Abe Gibron. The question was asked, "What makes a great restaurant?" and I will always remember Coach Gibron's reply. 

He said, "A great restaurant is a place where they take care of you. I call them up and say, 'I'm coming over. I like to eat and I'm not afraid to pay for it.' When I get there, they've cooked a goat." Excellent advice! Try it yourself. Just be sure to use Coach Gibron's exact words: "I'm coming over. I like to eat and I'm not afraid to pay for it."

For me, however, a great restaurant is a place of wonderful memories. That's why I feel so strongly about the Hilltop. The food was certainly good, although not exceptional. I always ordered either the soup of the day, spaghetti with meat sauce, or the chicken club sandwich. But it was the conversation that really made an impression. Sometimes the whole restaurant would take part, as when the following joke was passed around:

One night a flying saucer landed in front of a farm house. The farmer and his wife came out and were greeted by two space aliens. The aliens asked if the farmer and his wife would like to have sex, and they agreed.

While fucking the wife, the first alien asked if she would like his penis to be longer. When she said she would like that, he told her to pull on his left ear. Then he asked if she would like his penis to be thicker. When she said she would like that, he told her to pull on his right ear.

Later, when the flying saucer had departed, the farmer asked his wife how she had liked having sex with the space alien. She said, "It was great! How was it for you?" The farmer replied, "It was okay, but she kept pulling on my ears."

Another memorable conversation at the Hilltop Restaurant was a discussion of whether New York was the greatest city in the world. The consensus: No, but it used to be.

Finally, there was the time I overheard an angry argument between two young men about an age old question: "Which came first, the chicken or the egg?" The argument went something like this: "The chicken came first because you can't have an egg without a chicken!" "No, the egg came first because you can't have a chicken without an egg!" "Chicken!" "Egg!" "Chicken!" "Egg!" "Listen fuckface, the chicken came first because in the Bible it says God made the chicken! It don't say He made the egg! So shut the fuck up!"

from the archive; first posted June 4, 2008

Two Poems [by Mitch Sisskind]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Old Nellie and the Big Spiders

After 4 July how quickly summer goes until

Toward the end the big spiders come whom

I love but more than love respect them for

The web astonishments they each night build.

Sure, I'd like to get a new wristwatch but

How would my well-loved Timex feel as

The hour of the big spiders draws nigh

Which needs accurately to be clocked?

Wait, I've got it. I'll put a new watch in my

Amazon checkout cart but not finalize

The sucker till football season starts and

Then retire Old Nellie to my sock drawer!

Rabbi Frankenstein

That anyone could be named Rabbi Frankenstein

Seemed impossible but Rabbi Frankenstein was

His name! That he had a glass eye also seemed

Impossible but there it was! In the old days around

1957 Rabbi Frankenstein used to suddenly appear

And I always wondered why but looking back on it

Now I understand that he wanted a donation from

My father Lou and he never failed to get one either!

To start the ball rolling Rabbi Frankenstein would

Always give me a gift like a ceramic elephant or

A small jet plane as Lou smilingly looked on and

Then they went into the library to talk for about

30 minutes although Lou just wanted to write the

Check already but he never spoke disrespectfully

Of Rabbi Frankenstein he would just say oy vey

When Rabbi Frankenstein was finally gone!

Splash, splash [by Mitch Sisskind]

When I told Joe about how Sam Giancana

Punched Sammy Davis Jr. in the stomach

At Frank Sinatra's house Joe looked at me

And said, "I am like a frog that's been sitting

"Quietly on a lily pad until splash, splash,

"It jumps back into the water not because

"It wants to but because it must or else

"Everything will go right straight to hell.

"Sam Giancana hasn't been the same

"Since 1954 when Angeline passed on.

"She was an angel. Hey, I'd like to punch

"All of them in the stomach, Giancana,

"Sinatra, Joey Bishop, Peter Lawford,

"Not Dean Martin though. He's fabulous."

Ant and Clown (by Mitch Sisskind)

The Ant

You could not call him the Ant to his face
And you would be dead if you made the
Mistake of calling him the Ant to his face.
Or what if you called him the Ant except
Not to his face, like you called him the Ant
To somebody and he only heard about it?
He wouldn't care. It meant nothing to him.

The Clown

It was the same way with Joey the Clown.
They called him the Clown because he 
Liked to clown around but you yourself
Could definitely not ever clown around. 
Or just like how he felt about the suburbs.
A lot of them moved to the suburbs but
His basic attitude was fuck the suburbs. 

Philip K. Dick [by Mitch Sisskind]

  

No telling what time it was

As he woke in darkness with

The sleeping cat’s warmth,

 A gift from God, on the back
 
Of his neck and, weeping,

He willed himself to perfect

Stillness lest the cat leave.

But wait. Here was a thought,

Here was another possibility:

He was dead and, willfulness

Be damned, could no more

Stir himself than trisect an angle!

Yes, that might be it --

And this was paradise!

from the archive; first posted June 23, 2014

Louis Sisskind, around 1958 (by Mitch Sisskind)

Are a few observations.

Although he was right handed, he wore his watch on his right hand, which is slightly unusual. Also, he did not take his watch off when he went to bed at night.

Although he was almost completely bald, he got a shave and some sort of scalp treatment every Friday at the barber shop in the railroad station. He did have some hair around the edge of his head, which also got cut.

His tie, with a Windsor knot. I went to a grade school where we wore ties every day so he showed me how to do that knot. Once it was tied, you still had to pinch it. One of the few things I can remember him criticizing me for was if the knot didn't look right.

Although he did not finish high school and I never saw him read a book, he had an excellent vocabulary. Once when I was about ten years old I said I would say a word and he should try to define it. He agreed. The word was impetus.

Before he went to work one day he gave me some money and asked me to buy a small pack of Perfecto Garcia cigars. I was also about ten years old at that time. That night he asked about the cigars. I said I had forgotten. He quietly but very seriously said that if I asked him to do something, getting it done became the most important thing in his life. That made a huge impression on me. Somehow it was really scary. The next day I got the cigars.

He was at the Jewish Orphans Home in Cleveland until he was 14 years old. When I asked if he ever tried to run away, he seemed surprised. "Never! We played indoor baseball every day."

This picture was take at his office with a tiny "spy camera" called a Minox or something like that, which was briefly a fad in the 1950s.

O'Hara or Ashbery? Place your bets [by Mitch Sisskind]

A Daughter, Her Father and the Long-Gone Poet Who Brought Them Together

In her memoir “Also a Poet: Frank O’Hara, My Father, and Me,” Ada Calhoun set out to write a poet’s biography and found a connection to her father instead.

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/06/09/books/ada-calhoun-book-frank-ohara.html?searchResultPosition=1

I'm really looking forward to this book! The NYT article references Schjeldahl's remarking that Ashbery was a "better poet" than O'Hara. Without debating the whole questionable enterprise of rating poets in the first place, I do believe that Ashbery was "better" in at least two respects. First, if we compare the "best" poetry of both men, Ashbery at his "best" was "better." Also, Rivers and Mountains is one of the "best" books of poetry in the 20th century, in a league with Four Quartets. O'Hara himself wrote in a review (in Poetry magazine)  that Ashbery's Some Trees was "the most beautiful first book of poems since Wallace Stevens' Harmonium." Actually, Rivers and Mountains (Ashbery's thrid book) makes Wallace Stevens's Harmonium look like a Sunday school picnic.

On the other hand, I also believe that Ashbery did not again produce a book at the level of Rivers and Mountains, nor a poem at the level of "The Skaters." But who could? And he certainly kept at it. Who knows what O'Hara might have done if he'd been able to keep at it? (Her died at the age of 40). When Bertrand Russell was told he was too young to write an autobiography, he agreed that he might someday have become president of Mexico.

 

And one more thing, as Columbo used to say.  O'Hara's Lunch Poems, is a masterpiece in its own right, "better" than anything Ashbery did in its own way, and not the less for that. Everything about it is great, the text, the size of the book, the colors, the publication date. Sam Johnson, always interested in physicians, taught that a correct prescription encompassed many factors: the drug, the patient, the season of the year, the time of day, who knows what else. I had the great fortune to buy my copy of Lunch Poems at City Lights bookstore one day in 1965. The exact right thing, at the exact right place, at the exact right time. Thanks, boss. Much ass grassy ass.

Owning a Karelian Bear Dog [by Mitch Sisskind]

You've bought a Karelian Bear Dog,

Now what? Does it have a name?

Does it have a place to sleep? Food?

Water? If you have a summer home

Far from the city's hurly-burly then

I am quite sanguine about prospects

For excursions thither but mind you

There will be fleas! So do you still
Want the Karelian Bear Dog now?

Kierkegaard said of marriage that

You'll regret it if you do but also

If you don't and the same goes

For owning a Karelian Bear Dog,

It's basically a roll of the dice.

West Covina or Rancho Cucamonga [by Mitch Sisskind]

West Covina or Rancho Cucamonga

 

Got a phone number where you talk

To dead people of course they're not

Really dead it's just some guy out in

West Covina or Rancho Cucamonga

But what the hell, right? What the hell!

 

You call the number and you say which

Dead person you want to talk to so I said

Who's the most popular dead person and

The guy said Hitler so I said sounds good

Tell Hitler to call me so I can talk to Hitler.

 

Pretty soon the phone rang and a guy said

This is Hitler so I said hey what's up Hitler

How are things in West Covina or over in

Rancho Cucamonga because it's a scam

Man this is a scam and we both know it!

-- Mitch Sisskind

Big Tech [by Mitch Sisskind]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Internet
In those days I was doing trade shows
Mostly in Vegas, Dallas, or Phoenix
And since it was before the internet
I used to leave voice mail messages
For my wife where I would call myself
On The Road Mouse and if she left one
For me she was Stay At Home Mouse
Or vice versa where she would be
On The Road Mouse and I would be
Stay At Home Mouse depending
On who was on the road or at home
Which in those days was Boulder
And then we moved to Indianapolis
Where we got the Internet in 1993.

Text
When cell phones came in we lived
In Phoenix texting back and forth
Many dozens of times every day.
Phoenix Table Mat was a bad place
To work and when I proffered
In my texts that I wanted to look
Elsewhere but was leery to quit she
Wrote back in answer a text signed
Optimistic Mouse which was sweet
So I wrote one signed Love You Mouse.
The problem was how in those days
Texting was not automatically free
So I got a $2000 one-month bill but
Kept my mouth shut and paid it.

Zoom
Phrases like old home week or
A trip down memory lane refer to
When you wallow in the past by
Talking about the Model T Ford
When we now have the Tesla or
About texting when we now have
Snapchat, Instagram, and Zoom.
I will download my personality
Onto a computer so she can
Zoom with me after I’m dead
Or if she’s dead first she will
Have downloaded herself also
But what if we’re both dead?
Well, it will be up to the kids. 

The Fly in the Ointment [by Mitch Sisskind]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

People think the Golden Calf looked 
Like a calf but that is very wrong.
(Literal readings of the Bible are a sin.)
It looked like whatever you wanted
And it looked different to everyone
And since you could change it just
By thinking about it the Golden Calf
Was more like the guy's holographic
Girlfriend in 'Bladerunner 2049'
Than the Golden Calf as shown in
The 1956 'Ten Commandments' movie.
Don't forget: God can give you anything
You want but the fly in the ointment is
So can the devil! So can the devil!

"Poems of Robert Frost" [by Mitch Sisskind]

 

I went to the doctor for my

Annual checkup and he said,

'You've got cancer of the nose.'

Of course I was very surprised

But he added, 'You don't have to

'Do anything right today except

'With enough time you won't

'Have a nose.' I then inquired,

'What is the alternative, doc?'

And he replied Mohs surgery

About which I was clueless

But did not like the sound of it

One bit so I took the road

Less traveled you might say.

 

                *

Okay, stopping by woods on

A snowy evening. I don't know

About woods but growing up

In Chicago I was familiar with

Snowy evenings. One night

It snowed so hard that they

Called off school and we kids

Went sledding at Devil's Hill

All the next day and then

As the dusk began to fall

About four o'clock the snow

Resumed so even if it was

Not strictly speaking woods

It was a snowy evening.

 

                *

What about the poem 'Sand Dunes'

By Robert Frost? He describes how

A town doesn't get inundated by

Ocean waves but it does succumb

To sand dunes which he says are

Brown and dry. I believe this refers

To how you can get muddle-headed

In your old age even if you survive

The earlier years of your life because

It's like your brain gets clogged up

With sand. Also you will be buried

In the earth (sand) unless you want

To be cremated which reminds me

Of 'Fire and Ice' by Robert Frost.

Eliot's "Ass Wednesday" [by Mitch Sisskind]

As we move into Lent, Eliot's "Ass-Wednesday" is a work to which we naturally return. Is it surprising to discover the poet's inscription to Scott Fitzgerald "with the author's homage"? At first thought the two writers hardly seem like a match -- but there are actually several points of affinity. Both men were Midwesterners who went East to Harvard (Eliot) and Princeton (Fitzgerald.) Both men had "difficult" marriages to Vivienne (Eliot) and Zelda (Fitzgerald.) Both men liked to drink, though Tom seems to have been able to handle it better.

Those of us who admire both writers no doubt have favorite poems/stories/novels, and even favorite lines. I recall reading Fitzgerald's "Winter Dreams" as a high school student and being moved (almost) to tears. That story, said to be an early version of The Great Gatsby, still seems to me one of Fitzgerald's best. And rarely does a week go by in which I don't recite to myself my favorite line from "The Waste Land" (actually, from the notes): "I have associated it quite arbitrarily with the Fisher King himself." But my favorite Eliot is "Four Quartets."

Good day!

from the archive; first pblished Feb 21, 2010

Every Day Something Different Disappears [by Mitch Sisskind]

Notice fence made of plumbing pipes around the grass. 
This has also disappeared.

furniture mart disappears harris school

disappears pittsfield building disappears

prudential building disappears buckingham

fountain disappears temple sholom disappears

152 bus disappears 151 bus disappears

36 bus disappears wilson avenue el station

disappears howard street el station disappears

immaculata high school disappears wendella

boat ride disappears elks memorial disappears

ashkenaz deli disappears pinners disappears

22 bus disappears barbara's book store

disappears senn high school disappears

lakeview high school disappears lane

tech high school disappears melrose

restaurant disappears north shore day camp

disappears baha'i temple disappears

mrs wall disappears miss bailey disappears

mrs samelius disappears mr peart disappears

irv kupcinet disappears lyle’s drug store

disappears richter's butcher shop disappears

lake shore theater disappears parkway

theater disappears commonwealth hotel

disappears belmont hotel disappears

rosehill cemetery disappears 400 theater

disappears palmolive building disappears

abc toyland disappears bowlium disappears

playdium disappears webster hotel

disappears diversey arms hotel disappears

turtle wax building disappears corned

beef center disappears meigs field disappears

goose island disappears thillens stadium

disappears covent theater disappears

uptown theater disappears ivan bunny

disappears 442 wellington avenue disappears

432 belmont avenue disappears eli’s place

for steak disappears chez paree disappears

london house disappears 2350 club

disappears germania club disappears

town hall police station disappears .

st rita high school disappears north austin

boys club disappears walnut room

disappears gyp joint disappears olson

rug company disappears standard club

disappears covenant club disappears

imperial house disappears mr kelly’s

disappears king fat disappears bob spoo

disappears howard king disappears marty

faye disappears queen of angels disappears

devil’s hill disappears fritzl’s disappears

berghof disappears billy goat disappears

sherman lollar disappears michael reese

hospital disappears frankenstein

memorial center disappears richard’s

drive in carfeteria disappears lincoln

park disappears chess pavillion

disappears como inn disappears

museum of science and industry

disappears halsted street disappears

vaughn’s seed store disappears

planetarium disappears shangri-la

disappears ann sather’s disappears

chicago stadium disappears merchandise

mart disappears maxwell street disappears

florence ladies’ sportsware disappears

midway plaisance disappears rainbow arena

disappears westlawn cemetery disappears

dr paul hurwitz disappears republic steel

disappears gripe and groan tavern disappears

don the beachcomber disappears midway

airport disappears roosevelt university

disappears peterson avenue disappears

gate of horn disappears lawson YMCA

disappears playboy club disappears moose

cholak disappears kukla fran & ollie

disappear polk brothers disappears binyon’s

disappears american blower corporation

disappears smolarek disappears slobodnik

disappears rabbi samuel schwartz

disappears cafe bonaparte disappears

camellia house disappears green oaks

kiddyland disappears affy tapple

disappears mandel brothers department

store disappears wieboldt’s disappears

mrs hering’s chicken pot pie disappears

jack schatz and donjo meddlevine

disappear bounce land trampoline

park disappears fortnightly club

disappears potter palmer mansion

disappears children’s building disappears

ferris wheel park disappears general motors

powerama disappears yukon eric disappears

fraser thomas disappears doctor zipper

disappears washtenaw avenue disappears

zum deutchen eck disappears board of

trade disappears cloud room disappears

timber lanes bowling disappear satellite

papa disappears big bill hill disappears

jack eigen disappears red top cab disappears

chicken vesuvio disappears corsetorium

disappears 7313 men’s club disappears

fritz screw machine company disappears

gilby the watchmaker disappears corset

and underwear review disappears hill and

hill beauty and barber shop disappears

francheezie disappears augenblick

disappears johnnie’s lounge disappears

harriet’s dress shop disappears libby’s

majestic grill disappears gym shoe

sandwich disappears schulien’s disappears

jack decker beer distributor disappears

dr john bodzinski disappears bunge

brothers coal company disappears

italian beef disappears uptown stamp

and book mart disappears tinker toys

disappears up to date hat shop disappears

windy city inn disappears skorski homemade

sausage shop disappears waifs take-a-bath

disappears marshall field’s disappears nate

gross disappears dave condon disappears

wally behrns disappears niagara falls smelting

disappears purple palace disappears norman

tallow and soap company disappears tivoli

theater disappears mike’s market disappears

ray rayner disappears temple anshe emet

disappears lanyon undertakers disappears

the ivanhoe disappears johnson awnings

disappears miss cora hebron disappears

club lucky disappears hebrew matrimonial

agency disappears whistler’s restaurant

disappears lima locomotive works disappears

pure oil building disappears american people’s

encyclopedia disappears black angus 7127

western avenue disappears buffalo ice cream

disappears s kaplan junk disappears kling

vocal studio disappears mink air conditioning

disappears warren g wadsworth disappears

nathaniel stowers french disappears leschen

and sons rope company disappears american

hospital disappears kerrigan billiards disappears

hipple and company disappears seymour hull

and associates disappears wing hoe restaurant

disappears milton katz children’s wear

disappears cermak shopping center disappears

mirabell restaurant and lounge disappears

lang and richman furs disappears golden

youth cosmetics disappears bushman the

gorilla disappears villa sweden disappears

citywide auto sales disappears chicago

sunday evening club disappears droke

incorporated general merchandise disappears

miller’s pub disappears grizzly’s lounge

disappears flexible excavating company

disappears hamilton’s pub disappears

deutsch needlework supplies disappears

blackhawk restaurant disappears irma

burns cleaners disappears southwest inn

4501 south cicero avenue disappears

albert bivens trousers disappears cy’s

crab house disappears holy name

cathedral disappears davis school

of public speaking and script writing

disappears herta’s tots and teens

disappears bullpen sports bar disappears

elevator supply company disappears

hyde park jazz society disappears club

505 disappears guinn’s cigar store

disappears stouffer’s top of the rock

disappears grand crossing hotel

disappears ella’s sweet shop disappears

bohica bar and grill disappears globe

air compressors disappears joe fusco

the barber disappears rudy and ann’s

polka club disappears kid craft matresses

disappears joe’s men’s wear disappears

livestock national bank disappears

evelyn kelly rooms disappears milton’s

snack bar disappears klingberg children’s

home disappears smitty’s radiators

disappears abe lily fast freight disappears

nelson’s bakery disappears palenik

cleaners disappears reichert oil burners

disappears amelia levine furnished rooms

disappears ernest korinka tuckpointing

henry holtz chiropodist disappears arthur

francis multigraphing disappears mugs

bunny disappears home hand laundry

disappears austin high school disappears

warren featherstone company disappears

miss sitterly disappears gardner portrait

studio disappears koluska meats disappears

ballast point pub disappears fantasy of

jewels disappears santorini restaurant

disappears garbanz tavern disappears

taco and burrito palace disappears

garber wholesale furrier disappears

fiori’s deli disappears hesselberg

locksmith disappears gino’s east

disappears hymowitz market disappears

dark horse tap disappears j and j pain

and odor free foot products disappears

bert and elmer christensen vending

And pinball machines disappears

dante’s tavern disappears novakowski

confetti disappears morton’s the

steakhouse disappears lakeview

poultry disappears holy trinity

high school disappears danny’s

tavern disappears brott gummed

paper disappears coffee cheese

and egg salesmen’s union disappears

band of bohemia disappears greisch

beauty parlor disappears coffman

manufacturing company disappears

northside bar and grill disappears

maude’s liquor bar disappears eva’s

rlectrolysis shop disappears lawry’s

prime rib disappears forward oar

company disappears schoolyard

tavern disappears harold’s chicken

disappears fox furnished apartments

disappears tye gutta percha paint store

disappears guthrie’s tavern disappears

walk right shoe company disappears

chubby wieners disappears vitality

poultry store disappears bite cafe

disappears ideal toy company

disappears big and little’s disappears

craftmaster’s studios disappears

clipper lounge disappears mindy’s

hot chocolate disappears jeri’s grill

disappears addressograph company

disappears crown liquors disappears

fantozzi insurance company disappears

helen gould rest home disappears

chicago ladies hats barngrove food

machinery disappears globe trailer

parts disappears klink furs disappears

granada theater disappears free sons

of israel disappears effmeyer house

movers disappears cake ornaments

incorporated disappears dr raymond

friss disappears harry larson machinery

disappears come back inn disappears

neuberg sprinklers disappears eastern

airlines disappears harrison wholesale

disappears polk brothers disappears

eagle soda fountain exchange disappears

courtesy motors disappears hess gold

stamping disappears temple beth el

disappears bernhard moos elementary

school disappears cake ornaments

incorporated disappears maurice

tannenbaum pianos disappears lauren

warzek dds disappears york model

toys disappears zaslavsky accordion

school disappears six o’clock club

disappears sisters of mercy infirmary

disappears gladieu floor refinishing

disappears waiters and cooks union

disappears hastings tea room disappears

bel-pine apartments disappears casey

furniture company disappears dwyer’s

food shop disappears perfecto garcia

cigars disappears behr and weinstein

iron and metal junk disappears bellfuss

pharmacy disappears catholic art studio

disappears dwortz and son roofing

disappears dust maid products disappears

giordano and arnold exterminators

disappears kahr wholesale bananas

disappears lang’s deluxe bar-b-q disappears

barney malworm accountant disappears

murray’s superior products disappears

purple heart military order of illinois

disappears pyroferric used radio parts

disappears helen stribblen dramatic

arts disappears peterbaugh rooms

disappears oblack transfer company

disappears pond river meat disappears

root brothers clowns and entertainment

disappears pollack original slack house

disappears mukser food mart disappears

hi-lo tavern disappears locallo printing

disappears fenton’s drugstore disappears

kretchmer garage disappears lask boiler

company disappears beer frame bowling

disappears kee washing machine sales and

service disappears fred johnson window

cleaning disappears barry sandwich shop

disappears fifth avenue beauty salon

disappears egyptian lacquer manufacturing

disappears eggers safe experts disappears

davidson’s bakery disappears gus goldman

woolens disappears fritz food and drink

disappears eight ball club tavern disappears

jerome lewis lamp shades disappears hench

income tax specialists disappears gugelman

artificial eyes disappears benno epstein cpa

disappears forslev delicatessen disappears

every day something different disappears

Footbawl! Footbawl! Footbawl! [by Mitch Sisskind]

"Footbawl! Footbawl! Footbawl" by Mitch Sisskind
Los Angeles Review of Books, February 12, 2022

Super Bowl time is here. Let’s get in the mood:

It is a game of blood and muscle and fresh air. It renders distasteful the trivial dissipations that sap the energies of the youth of the wealthier classes. It is all very well for old grandmothers at their tea to sigh at the cruelties of the game. But it doesn’t do Cholly or Fweddie any harm to have his collarbone smashed occasionally.

                                                                                — Willa Cather, 1894 

Does anyone have a problem with that? Not Jack Kerouac, whose last novel Vanity of Dulouz renders a Columbia football practice like a chapter of the Iliad. Not Jack’s buddy Neal Cassady, star quarterback for the New Mexico Boys Reformatory. Those guys could write, as well as punt, pass, and kick. But for the best literary appreciation of the game with the funny ball, nothing is in a league with Don DeLillo’s End Zone, first published in 1972.

There’s a Ludwig Wittgensteinian, Roland Barthian, post-structuralist, semiotic aspect of the book, so let’s deal with that real quick. DeLillo’s concept of “end zone” refers to the outer limits of language where words struggle to express ultimate phenomena such as hydrogen bomb explosions and perfectly run football plays. DeLillo ponders racial or racist aspects of football as they appeared in 1972. He also introduces a character who says he’s trying to “un-Jew” himself by playing football, although there have been plenty of great Jewish football players from Marshall Goldberg at the University of West Virginia to Mitchell Schwartz, late of the Kansas City Chiefs.  

What’s terrific about End Zone, however, is DeLillo’s success in getting the experience of football onto the page. True, it might not be for everyone. Willa Cather’s old grannies might find DeLillo’s portrayal of football players to be overdrawn. But those grannies wouldn’t know Steve Largent from Ernesto Laclau — and who was Ernesto Laclau, anyway?

Certainly there are colorful names for the ballplayers in End Zone, but what’s really celebrated are the names of the football plays. They’re poems in a crazy shorthand. They’re prayers for salvation and victory. 

All teams run the same plays. But each team uses an entirely different system of naming. Coaches stay up well into the night in order to name plays. They heat and reheat coffee on an old burner. No play begins until its name is called. Out-23, near-in belly toss. Counter-freeze, blue-2 wide, swing inside delay. Middle sift-W, alph-set, lemmy-2.

The names of the plays are what make them unique, since the plays themselves are pretty much the same. This was made clear in an episode of Jon Gruden’s “QB Camp” TV show. Gruden — an NFL coach, television commentator, and football fanatic — was interviewing Carson Wentz, a pro quarterback. “What did you call this play in college?” Gruden asked, referring to a rather conventional passing formation. But his eyes were bright with expectation. “All right,” Wentz replied, “you would probably call it one strike slot, but we called it gun rocker pro, pass ten, superman, z-steal.” Gruden heard this and giggled like a child. It took his breath away. 

A long section of End Zone is devoted to a play-by-play description of an entire football game. Two obscure college teams are battling it out in the middle of nowhere. This is the book’s most radical departure from conventional narrative and it’s entirely successful. Echoing Willa Cather, DeLillo starts by dismissing any “grandmothers, sissies, and lepidopterists.” Then we’re on the field with the boys: 

“Footbawl,” George Owen shouted. “This is footbawl. You thow it, you ketch it, you kick it. Footbawl. Footbawl. Footbawl.”

“I guarantee you I’ll mash his little mimmy. I’m serious, man. I’ll waste that diddly before this thing’s over.”

“I’m feeling happy,” I said. “Look at the arc lights, the crowd. Listen to those noises out there. Pop, pop, pop. Ving, ving. Existence without anxiety. Happiness. Knowing your body. Understanding the real needs of man.”

“Let’s ching those nancies! Monsoon sweep, string-in left, ready right!”

Fifty years after it was written, I find this wonderful and completely convincing. Still, it’s worth noting some of the changes that have taken place in football since 1972. In football’s first years, from early games in the 1860’s until World War I, football was largely played by “the youth of the wealthier classes,” as Cather says. Baseball was the plebeians’ game. The football powers were Harvard, Yale, and the University of Pennsylvania. Professional football really got started only in the 1920’s, when Red Grange — the Galloping Ghost — played on several teams under more than one name. Well into the 1950’s NFL players had offseason jobs: farmers, gym teachers, insurance salesmen.  

Today football, at least NFL football, is again played by a wealthier class, albeit not from Harvard or Yale. Every player on every team is now signed to a million-dollar contract at least, and most players earn much more. Nor is modern football a matter of Cholly and Fweddie getting a collar bone smashed. The game is a lot faster, more violent, and much more dangerous. The players know that. But, oh, what the hell. 

So now it’s Super Bowl time. Download your copy of End Zone from Amazon and start reading. Do it now, before the game, and be in front of your television at least ten minutes before kickoff. As the coach says in the Don DeLillo’s book, “Do not drag-ass. Anything I have no use for, it’s a football player who consistently drag-asses. Move swiftly from place to place, both on the field and in the corridors of buildings.”

-- Mitch Sisskind is the author of Visitations (1984), Dog Man Stories (1993), and Collected Poems 2005-2020. His poems have appeared in the anthologies Best American Poetry 2009 and Best American Poetry 2013. Photo of Julian Edelman making an spectacular gravity-defying catch in the super bowl (Sports Illustrated).

from the Los Angeles Review of Books, February 12, 2022