They were literary personae,
important men of letters.
BALABANIS TAILOR BY ALEXANDER J MOTYL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 13
The names on the plaques—
embossed, in bronze, and glossy,
and placed prominently to the left
and to the right of the entrance,
and declaring proudly to the world or,
in any case, to anyone who can
afford Hotel Chelsea room rates
that they were literary personae,
important men of letters,
who cut texts
and tailored prose
and therefore deserve our accolades
and undying admiration—
pale in comparison to the
large red sign with white letters,
placed prominently just to the right,
positioned almost as a challenge to this dump
and its famous denizens
and declaring no less proudly that
BALABANIS TAILOR used to be here,
and measuring lengths,
while limping on a gimpy leg
and speaking broken English
and telling his thin-haired wife in mumbled Greek
to get the jacket from the rack
and making the world a much safer place
for spare tires, bad postures,
and the belly laughs behind words.
Two suitcases, a seven year old boy, and a theory of my own sensibility.
SONTAG BY MARINA REID WEISS 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 13
There I am: Duchamp’s mustachioed Mona Lisa, The Importance of Being Earnest, $70 in wrinkled bills, two suitcases, a seven year old boy, and a theory of my own sensibility.
I will now make bouillon out of soup.
For my next act, I divide you into those with moral goodness and those with dangerous topics. I will not marry anyone.
I wonder where does an erotics of art wander, where can I swat its firm buttocks with my willow switch until it dispels masochism and capitulation for le mot juste?
If I had not existed, I would have had to invent me along with a fear of trivial pleasure.
The theorist is always in arrears to herself, because she has the greatest library in private hands in the world, an immensely complex enterprise of self-description.