Poem of the Day 10.07.25

the college kids

the college kids
are back in town

with their weird fruit drinks
their ten-gallon specialty coffees
and their tapioca balls hanging out

the college kids
are back in town

and everyone is calling everyone bro

the college kids
are back in town

with their asian fusion food
and meatless hamburgers

with their poke bowl philosophies

the college kids
are back in town

and some noble professor is duty bound
to write a think piece about the dangers of A.I.

the college kids
are back in town

with their biker shorts galas
and sporty gear cotillions

with their blonde coeds
who take up space in bookstores
finger fucking novels

saying, i just love books
but i don’t have time to read

the college kids
are back in town

with their business degree blues
touching grass in washington square park
vaping strawberries on broadway

and it smells like teen spirit
it smells like mommy and daddy’s money burning

the college kids
are back in town

with their venmo inheritances
their apple pay trust funds

the college kids
are back in town

and it’s autumn in new york

the leaves are falling from the trees
the sun is hiding from the daylight

the college kids

are back in town

and thanks to them  

it’s getting harder
and harder in this city

to pay for anything
with cash.

Poem of the Day 10.06.25

the tourists

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

eating twisty cones

and walking six deep
on the boulevard of broken dreams

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

clogging their arteries at food trucks
stopping to take photographs of buildings
and dudes sleeping on the street

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

shopping at the m&m store
at the NBA store
at the NBC store

looking in the windows of tiffany and co.
buying knock-off handbags by the dozen

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

carrying big bags up and down 5th avenue
pulling whiney kids through times square

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

with their foam statue of liberty hats
and their plastic empire states

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

the inbreds
and the euro trash

posing for selfies on the brooklyn bridge
going the wrong way on the D train
joining the protests in union square
and having a picnic in central park

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

top of the rock
never forgetting at the 9/11 memorial

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

their fat smiling faces sailing the hudson river
their fat asses at a disney show

their fat bodies
sweating in the gotham heat

the tourists
are everywhere in this fair city

with their pocket map hopes and dreams

and i swear

it’s enough to make a man
want to pack up all of his shit

and move

every time
the summer
comes snaking around.

Poem of the Day 10.03.25

mary’s sister

pam is a slut
mary whispered to me
in the backseat of her parent’s car

we were going to cleveland
for her nephew’s first communion

i didn’t know much about pam or sluts

i just knew about mary
and what i knew was getting tiring

pam didn’t look like a slut

she looked like someone pushing thirty
who had two kids too early
and was trying to make up for lost time

pam’s boyfriend chuck
liked to grab her ass
in front of everyone
when pam went to fetch him a beer

i liked chuck
maybe he was the slut

and pam had a fine ass

i kept looking for signs of pam’s sluttiness
the whole time we were there

but other than putting bailey’s irish in her morning coffee
i couldn’t find anything

maybe my slut-radar was off
maybe i never knew what a slut was

the morning of the communion
pam came into the room
mary and i were sleeping in

it instantly smelled of roses and daffodils

pam saw me awake
and mouthed, ssssshhhhh

before opening a closet
to look for the boy’s communion suit

pam was wearing a black see-through kimono
and her panties were thongs

she had a tattoo of a pair of lips
on her right ass cheek

that i still remember thirty years later

when she left the room
pam winked at me

and i laid there on the guest bed
thinking sluts must be as magical as unicorns
wondering if i could rub one out

until mary lifted her head from the pillow
and said to me

see what i mean?

Poem of the Day 10.02.25

watching today’s youth at the bar

the group of them
sitting there

dead silent

slack-jawed
playing on their phones

as their beers get warm

and all i can think is that one day
i’m going to have to vote

for one of these

dumb motherfuckers

for president.

Poem of the Day 10.01.25

garden variety drunk

the words haven’t come
to me in months

as i sit in the sadness of a september
with no cold air coming

reading poems by poets

who write odes to old taverns
while only drinking three beers a year

and as the empty bottles
collect around me

this mirror stares back

at nothing but
an aluminum can shakespeare

a recycle bin bukowski

just another
garden variety drunk

with little
left to say.

Poem of the Day 09.30.25

old fools

middle aged men
look like fools

with their ballcaps on backwards

talking to blonde bartenders
with big asses
whom are half their age

taking up the last two seats at the bar

on this humid
flat screen football sunday

where i catch myself
in one of the barroom mirrors

then discreetly
turn my hat around

so it’s facing the right way
for my age.

Poem of the Day 09.29.25

good guys/bad guys

my good guys
are your bad guys

and your good guys
give me the shits

they keep me up at night
wondering how it’s all going to end

looking out onto the houses
of this quiet street

full of dead american flags

hanging up and down
the block.