—AND THE SUN BURNED LOW, ON THE RADIO

 

Cheap

 

They’re having a sale on babies at Neiman Marcus, and we’ve just miscarried for the fifth time, so we go and walk the marble aisles that resemble footpaths installed in museums or Pharoh’s mansions. 

Over to the side are the newborns, propped up like erect leather boots or running shoes that somehow giggle if you poke them in their bellies, about where the shoelaces would wear down after a while and unravel. 

“This one looks like you,” my wife says, perkier than I’ve seen her since our doc praised us for trying to procreate. “It has your same cowlick and unfortunate overbite, plus it’s half-off.” 

“A steal,” I agree.

So, I bundle up the dopey, doppelganger kid under my armpit and go to pay at the counter where the clerk says, “Oh geez, I’m so sorry, I don’t know how that one got in. It’s an immigrant, but if you look on the other side, by the Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik rack, you’ll find a great selection of kids who all have their tags, plus most of them are a lot cheaper than what you’ve picked.”  

 

—I HOPE THAT YOU STILL LOVE ME

 

 

…I hope you’re not crossing your fingers behind your back. That would be a shame.

 

…Sometimes it’s good to believe in the myth, if that’s all you have to hold on to.

 

…It’s amazing how many products don’t work, or don’t do what they’re supposed to. Like M&M’s actually do melt in your hand.

 

…There’s symbolism everywhere.

 

…Here are two happy pieces I had published last week at Literary Underground:

https://theliteraryunderground.org/blog/2025/07/06/the-dogs-were-good-again-help-by-len-kuntz/

 

…And just when I think that can’t possibly happen anymore, it does. 

 

…“To tell you the truth, the first ten or so years when I was writing, I never paid attention to line breaks at all. I’d just write a line and when I got to the end, I’d start another line.” Greg Kosmicki

...Some days it lets you, some days not so much.

 

…Don’t you think coincidences are kind of spooky? They always make me second guess what I think I believe.

 

…I’m not sure what would be worse—for people to stop reading poetry, or for people to stop living altogether.

...Yesterday I had anxiety I haven't since Covid. I could barely handle driving on the freeway. I saw every overpass I drove under collapsing on top of me. I saw myself being crushed by every Semi nearby. So yeah, it wasn't the great day you thought.

 

…How was your 4^th? I spent mine wishing we were all still oppressed and ruled by England, or any country at all, for that matter.

 

…How do you even respond, now, when someone wishes you a “Happy 4^th!” 

 …Actual headline: Joey Chestnut wins 17^th Nathan’s Hotdog Eating Challenge: “I love pushing myself.”

 

…It really helps if you don’t care. But then why even show up?

 

…I know I cite AB a lot here, but he was a hero of mine from afar. I wish I could have had a beer with him, or two:

“I work really hard to not ever think about my place in the world.

I'm aware of my good fortune. I'm very aware of it, and I'm very aware that, because of it, people offer me things. Opportunities to do extraordinary things. The ones that are interesting to me are collaborations. I get to work with people who 10 years ago I wouldn't have dreamed to have been able to work with. And that's a big change professionally, and it's something that I think about a lot. How can I creatively have fun, do some interesting stuff, not repeat myself? Have fun. Play in a creative way. I like making things.” Anthony Bourdain

 

… You’re going to worry about what your friends worry about, or else you’re not really friends, so what’s the point of that?

 

…Sometimes I tell myself: Just stay with that, that’ll get you there.

 

…It’s amazing what goes on here. And a lot of it is shameful.

 

…Greif is a motherfucker. But the thing is, the very most important thing is, it reminds you that you’re alive, and that there was something or someone you cared about so much that their absence could do this—break your heart over and over and over again, without even knowing they have. 

 

…I know I’m not very clever, and I don't really want to be clever.

 

...When you stand up, it looks very different. 

 

…I really try not to go back to the well, but it’s always there, lurking under my skin, so I have a hard time not visiting, which means I repeat myself, so I’m sorry. 

 

…It sounds blunt and brutal, but it takes effort if you really want it.

 

…We’ve all had a lot of bad haircuts, but some of mine are unforgiveable.

 

…You just don’t meet that many authentically kind people. So, when you do, you take notice and try to befriend them.

 

…“I can have ten versions of one line … The word I chose is perfectly good, but for some reason, it’s rarely good enough … It’s mystifying, the thing that keeps you going forward, ripping up, ripping up, ripping up. What are you looking for?” —Fanny Howe

 

…“With John and George not here, I think we realize nothing lasts forever,” McCartney said. “So, we grasp onto what we have now because we realize that it’s very special. It’s something hardly anyone else has. In fact, in our case, it’s something no one else has. There’s only me and Ringo, and we’re the only people who can share those memories.”

 

…Even the word patriot seems warped now. How the fuck did they pull that one off? You have to give them credit.

 

…“Just turn it over to God.” Okay, sure, if you say so.

 

…She’s a brick, and I’m drowning slowly.

 

…“It blows me away. I look in the mirror and I’m 24. I never got older than 24. But guess what? You did.” Ringo Starr, who just turned 85 

 

…Headline in the Seattle Times, 7/5/25: 

Pride in America is cratering. But that’s not the same as giving up

…The hard part when people ask you about writing, and ask for help to get better at it, is that they don’t really want to write, they just want to be able to call themselves a writer.

…The world is sleeping and I am numb.

…As I’ve said here previously, I think it’s very difficult to make rhyming poetry happen, or work, but this one, from so long ago, does for me…

I’d Have You Think of Me

Djuna Barnes 1892 –1982

 

As one who, leaning on the wall, once drew 
Thick blossoms down, and hearkened to the hum 
Of heavy bees slow rounding the wet plum, 
And heard across the fields the patient coo
Of restless birds bewildered with the dew.

As one whose thoughts were mad in painful May,
With melancholy eyes turned toward her love,
And toward the troubled earth whereunder throve
The chilly rye and coming hawthorn spray—
With one lean, pacing hound, for company.

 …When you’re grieving and don’t know where to turn or how to act, sometimes taking the Pollyanna approach is your only hope.

 …Despite it all, today’s a good day to be alive.

—IT’S PRETTY COLD FOR JULY

 

Ice

 

I’d had a DUI, no two, but 

I wasn’t as drunk as the rest, 

so they sent me to fetch more ice 

before the fireworks got loaded and shot off, 

it being the 4^th and how our country 

was on the right track now. 

At the store, most people also

looked a little liquored up, 

grinning as if it was Halloween 

or their birthday instead of the 4^th, 

wearing red, white and blue, 

flag shirts, stars and stripes 

on their caps and shorts, 

some with a bold, patriotic tattoo. 

I got three bags of ice, a lottery ticket 

and two more cases of Modelo, 

my new favorite since what Budweiser did. 

In my truck, where you turn to go right or left, 

I noticed the Mexican woman wasn’t there 

with her kid like they always were, 

actresses the two of them, 

beggars and illegals more than likely, 

but their sign was still there, 

hanging crooked off the curb. 

I don’t know why, but I flipped it the bird

as I pulled away laughing my ass off,

though for some reason I 

thought about it later on 

just as the sky started lighting up, 

screaming in colors that were new to me.

—ALL SINS ARE FORGIVEN IN NEW YORK CITY

 

A Crazy Person

 

Like a crazy person, 

I’m talking to you again, 

inside my head or aloud,

I’m not sure which, 

which right away must mean 

I’m a crazy person, 

though no one on the 

street’s currently looking at me, 

though maybe the reason 

they’re not is because 

I’m nuts and scare them, 

which would seem about right, 

but anyway, I’m thinking 

about you again, Goddamnit,

because it’s sunny out and

the breeze smells like honeysuckle, 

which used to make you sneeze 

all over your face and sometimes mine.

It’s going to rain later, apparently, 

according to the nifty cloud logo

button on my phone, but that 

just makes me think about you more,

how you once tromped through 

the back yard, your whole body 

sinking and squishing in the spongy lawn, 

darting here and there like a magic scarf,

what a muddy fool you were. 

Tomorrow calls for hail, 

Hallelujah. It’s our favorite 

kind of weather, or was

back when you were still around, 

that endless ellipsis of white BBs

shooting down from the sky 

in an urgent rush, as if God himself

was vomiting up a million Dippin’ Dots

he wished he hadn’t eaten.

But God’s not here right now, 

you neither, Goddamnit, 

and that’s a shame, 

a crying shame as they say.

So, in my coat pocket, next to 

my one set of lungs, I’ve got 

your collar with me, 

the one I forgot

on the day the vet put you down

but called later to tell me about, 

to come and retrieve 

the dog collar instead of you 

because you were long dead by then. 

I think I’ll always think of you, 

maybe until I’m dead, as you are now. 

It’s crazy to say that, to feel so much

about what some people might say is only a pet,

though you were far more than that, 

you were, even if it sounds psychotic 

to confess such a thing, my joy.

And so, I’ll say it today and 

will likely again tomorrow,

even if it’s thunderstruck, stormy-as-hell

Helter Skelter Watch-your-head-Lucy!

weather, the kind we both feared and hated.

I’m not certain of much anymore, 

what kind of country this is or tomorrow’s forecast,

yet I’m pretty sure I’ll always miss you, 

even if I say so out loud, on accident, 

to the old woman walking down 

Front Street, wondering, 

Who is that lunatic and 

why won’t he shut up?

 

—EVEN IF YOU NEVER KNOW IT

 

 

…You can’t hurt me. I’ve been buried alive by the devil that’s in this mirror.

 

…This was blast from the past, something really sweet a person shared on my birthday last week:

https://kristinfouquet.blogspot.com/2018/09/poignant-stories-book-review-of-im-not.html?fbclid=IwY2xjawLNe3NleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBicmlkETFaZUNNcFBvNTBDT2hkd2JZAR5jwRJ2Y5uuFzsYRAVaUsm0SP5PixsQ7O1BB1UGH-bC0NRUF0EldCyS_xHKCA_aem_w7JK_dR_on6kUvPLuf3ksA

 

…And I had this published (What, what?) the other day:

https://theliteraryunderground.org/blog/2025/07/02/an-abundance-of-riches-by-len-kuntz/

 

…“Are we winning?”

 

…There are two sides to every river, but it can be easy to drown in the middle.

 

…It’s often only when it stops that you realize what it really means.

 

…“One of the greatest secrets in life: Other people teach you how to be a better player, and that’s how you win.” Mel Robbins

 

…I’m not sure if I have the capacity for all that stuff anymore. And it’s not about age, though maybe it is. 

 

…People who think they’re funnier than they really are, are still funny to themselves.

 

…I think one of my problems is I have more time to think about, and examine, the things someone’s said, which can often lead me misdirected.

 

…Apparently, keeping a secret is something that doesn’t happens anymore.

 

…It’s hard to make it easy.

 

…Oh boy…

 

…Even when it doesn’t mean anything, if you think about it long enough and hard enough, it does.

 

…Needless to say…

 

…If you’re going all out to sue someone, what is it that you really want?

 

…33 new restaurants opened in the last half year in the surrounding Seattle area. Good for them. You have to have a lot of chutzpah to pour your entire life into a venture like that.

 

…It’s probably not a good sign when I hear myself encouraging myself to, “Keep going. Keep going. Just keep going.”

 

…The ability to notice, and then appreciate the mundane for more than it is—that’s a rare gift. I think that’s why poetry matters. 

 

…You know how they say, “I hang on your every word”? With some people, I actually do.

 

…If you take the time to look through the garbage, you’re always going to find something to think about, but it might not always be what you expected.

 

…Do you have a person you loathe every day? No? I do.

 

…On a smallish boat (there were twelve of us on it) in Croatia one day, a little boy, about eight, got locked inside the restroom next to me. It was definitely very tricky getting in and out of there and I could hear him next to me, fumbling frantically, feeling trapped, so from the other side I tried to tell him what lever to jigger but at the sound of my voice he stopped and went silent, which I get, Stranger Danger and all, and so after I left I saw his dad on the side of the boat and told him and eventually he got his son out, and once free—literally the second he was out of the door—I heard him call, “Mom? Mom?” and that meant a lot of different things to me.   

 

…It’s pretty difficult to get through life if you haven’t been rejected at least a few dozen times.

 

…I know it’s going to be a really sad day when I stop texting What the chair? Are you chairing kidding me? or I can’t chairing believe it! but it’s bound to happen. And it sort of needs to.

 

…The problem is I’m never going to forget that, and maybe I shouldn’t.

 

…Not to sound like a dick—I don’t have anything against Megan Markle and her latest fashion ensemble, but I really don’t care about it. 

 

…Have you ever been cruel to someone you love without any provocation whatsoever? It’s a pretty awful thing to do, and I’ve done it. 

 

…Sometimes a birthday wish from someone you’ve never even met is one of the best ones.

 

…What if you’re the asshole and don’t even know it?

 

…It’s pretty challenging to be a part of someone else’s life when you’re not there, though I still try.

 

…We always want to show our good side to other people, but really, if someone shows me their tarnished one, I’m more likely to pay attention and be a fan of theirs.

 

…I’m really glad Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sanchez were married in such an extravagant manner. And that all those celebrities showed up for it. And that $56,000,000 got poured into various economies. It gives young couples something to aspire toward once they plan their own nuptials.

 

…A bird has hollow bones so it can fly, but how does a plane, filled with all those people and all that luggage?

 

…Though I didn’t care about it, it seemed odd to me that so little attention was paid to Diddy’s trial. O.J.’s was different, sure, but people were rapt every day. It created its own cottage industry. Lawyers and reporters became household names and then turned into celebrities themselves.

 

…I might think too much.

 

…Never say Goodbye if you can help it, and never say Goodbye on a bad note.

 

…I already know I’m a bitch, so you don’t have to waste your energy calling me out.

 

…“Stop trying to make ‘Fetch’ happen.”

 

…Sometimes what hurts your feelings the most is the truth.

 

…How in the hell do I have 627,000 files? Is that a lot? Because it seems like it is. 

 

…I loved my journalism teacher in high school. He was one of the first authority figures to encourage my writing. I can see his face, his too-long sideburns and Welcome Back Cotter perm, though I can’t recall his name. He impacted me in huge ways, and gave me my own column in the high school newspaper which was a big deal back then. I still remember so much of what he said, what he taught me. One of those is—The media doesn’t tell you what to think, but it tells you what to think about. All these years later, I think of that almost every time I read some ridiculous headline.

 

…Have I told you lately how much I hate typos? Mine, I mean. I have? Okay, just so you know, and so you know I’m sorry for them.

 

…“This is what other people did to you, she decided. They made you question the things you’d always taken as fact.” Kevin Wilson, Run For the Hills

 

…I will always believe, but nothing’s comes this close to shattering my faith as what’s transpired in the last half-year.

 

…How do you not compare, though?

 

…Sometimes the best you can do is to admit, “I’ve got nothing.”

 

…How can you be fat when you only weigh 160 pounds?

 

…I could pick apart my thoughts forever and still not really know what they mean.

 

…“To sit alone or with a few friends, half-drunk under a full moon, you just understand how lucky you are; it’s a story you can’t tell. It’s a story you almost by definition, can’t share. I’ve learned in real time to look at those things and realize: I just had a really good moment.” Anthony Bourdain

 

…If you did it, but it was ugly, should you feel glad about it? 

 

…Sure, you can write a lot and be prolific, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.

 

…It’s pretty bizarre now to hear someone say what a great “leader” I once was, and I’m not being self-aggrandizing in the least. 

 

…When you’re an introvert and you meet someone for the first time, your first thought is usually, I wonder what they’re selling?

 

…“The ability to see the world for what it is and press on anyway. That seems like a skill worth cultivating.” Sumit Paul-Choudhury

 

…“Go, Becky, go! No, No, No, not there! Are you kidding? Well, fuck me.”

 

 

 

—REAL-LIFE LIVIN’ IN A REAL-LIFE PAINTING

 

 

The 40-Year-Old Virgin

 

Yesterday my daughter and I were laughing like jackals again on the phone as I told her about donating blood, how they gave me a trainee that jabbed the needle in my arm harder than John Travolta stabbing Uma Thurman in that infamous Pulp Fiction heroin scene, and how the force of the puncture made me jerk, which made the bookmark and loose papers in the book of poems I was reading (so as not to witness the attempted assassination attempt) fly like feathers from a shot bird, while all the other needle-jabbers stopped what they were doing to stare in shock, and after we laughed, my daughter told me how once, while getting a pap smear, they were doing training too at the facility and asked if it would be okay to take photos, which she agreed to because she’s my daughter, shy, non-confrontational and awkward a lot of times, and she didn’t need to go into specifics because that was plenty of fodder for us, so we laughed some more, so hard on my end that I knocked over the cylinder-shaped drink on my desk, all over some poems I’d been writing, but I didn’t care because I was so happy to be talking to my girl on the phone and laughing with her, and then I closed out our conversation by reminding her when I took her to see The 40-Year-Old Virgin on her thirteenth birthday, like who does that, and she said, You do, Father of the Year.