Poem of the day 01.31.23

passage

the girl
on the evening bus

is wearing a brown mini
and a white fur coat
that doesn’t cover her stomach

she has on beige fuck-me boots
that almost reach her knees

i notice her because of all of this

and because she’s the only one on this bus
not dower and gray
from another waste of our only hours

and girl?

she’s probably thirty
but what do i know at my age?

thirty deserves a cradle and a bib

there’s a woman standing next to me
she’s eyeing up the girl

not seductively

just the usual menace and hate
that we reserve for the beautiful people

the woman catches me looking at the girl

when our eyes meet
there’s nothing in them but disgust

and i realize the passage of time
has pissed in her cornflakes this morning too

its sad to come across random beauty
like its sad to be crammed on an evening bus
with the stark realization that you’re growing old

i’ve always said
i would rather pass through this life
attractive and dumb
than living the examined life

but i realize at my age now
i’d just be left with dumb

and i never looked good in boots

so that woman can keep her hateful stare

and the girl in the mini skirt
fuck-me boots
and a white fur coat that doesn’t cover her stomach

she could be a goddamned roads scholar
for all the i know

some people are blessed the whole way around

the rest of us do what we can
to pass the hours

we lie and tell ourselves
it’s a beautiful day to be alive

and that the cracks in our mirrors
aren’t doing their damndest

to try and deceive us
too.

Poem of the Day 01.30.23

american cupcakes

we eat
canned corn

and cupcakes colored
with the american flag

and i have been in this line
longer than it took me
to pick out my groceries

the cashier is a trainee
with unruly hair
and the touch of a moustache

he’s seventeen and thinks he’s funny

he’s so funny
he can’t ring up a head of lettuce
or a bag of chips
without telling a joke

america must always suffer
the indignity of funny men

i look at him

he is like the slowly rotting meat
in my cart

warm
and purple
and dull

one day he’ll probably be the manager here

he tells another bad joke

i think of walking away
and leaving all of the groceries

but there is nothing in my home
except cold vodka and stale popcorn

it is too hot today
to willingly starve

and i’m not in the mood for protest

so i stand there and sweat
as no one but the cashier laughs

looking at another week’s worth of food
splayed out on the counter

bought to feed another week
of this ceaseless horseshit

looking at the american cupcakes
wrapped in non-biodegradable plastic

that the cashier
casually crushes
with a case of warm soda

with the same jokey manner
and nonchalant ease

that he has used to crush
this afternoon

and all of our souls.



06.21.22

Poem of the Day 01.27.23

the difference

good god
these days of madness

and little suicides
come in droves

where i can no longer
stand the sound
of another voice in complaint
but mine

and as another faceless
fresh turd of privilege
prattles on about their miseries

expecting empathy in return

i think of the car
that almost ran me down
this morning
at ft. hamilton and 61st street

and i think
of tender mercies too

only i’ll be goddamned
if i could tell you

the difference

between them.

Poem of the Day 01.26.23

the politicians at the street festival

sit
in booths

between fried oreo stands
bounce houses
and people selling plastic figurines

they sit and smile
and are impervious to sun and rain

to the ten bands on the street
all playing shitty beatles covers at once

they look like

they’re made of wax

dumb smiles all around

that one is pro-choice
that one is pro-life

this one has a banner
that says love is love is love

but doesn’t really say anything at all

they sit there
at their cluttered tables
with flags and stacks of papers before them

the politicians at the street festival

papers full of all of the items
they stand for or are against

more trees have died for their agendas
than one could hazard to count

and they would be
the biggest idiots here

if it weren’t for all of the people walking around

eating hot dogs
and fried dough

all of the clueless citizens who voted
these grinning hucksters into office

in the first
goddamned place.

Poem of the Day 01.25.23

poolsharks

when i was young
and bored

i used to hang around
with steve and calvin

they liked to go to expensive clubs
drink overpriced beer
and watch dull women in fancy clothes
dance with dull men
in the neon and mist

they talked about all of the pussy they were going to get

and nobody ever went home with anyone

sometimes
i could get them to go to a bar

but only if the place had a pool table

steve and calvin
would play pool
while i sat there and smoked
and drank and watched the people
or the blank walls

trying my best to understand people
who played pool and went to expensive clubs

people who always needed to be entertained

steve and calvin
were loud when they played pool

they fought over shots
they fought over solids and stripes

they hit their balls off the pool table
and knocked over people’s drinks

they threatened to hit each other with their pool sticks

and made general spectacles
of themselves when they played

you could tell that the bar people
didn’t like them very much

when they were done
steve and calvin would sit with me at the table

drink their, warm waiting beers
looking sullen and dumb

they talked about how boring the bar was
how ugly the women were

then the next week
we'd go back to the expensive clubs
drink overpriced beer
and watch dull women in fancy clothes
dance with dull men
in the neon and mist

they talked about all of the pussy they were going to get

and nobody ever went home with anyone
on those nights as well.

Poem of the Day 01.24.23

amuck

we are proud of everything now
and ashamed of nothing

i watched the idiots prance around
on tv and on the internet

their stupidity on display
their ignorance run amuck

and they look happy and secure

while i don’t have the confidence
to get out of bed most days

but that’s just the way it is

the weak will not inherit the earth
before the fools burn it all to the ground

court jester citizens
and keystone cops

clashing in the broiling streets

we are proud of everything
and ashamed of nothing now

as the cockroaches and rats
wait patiently in the wings

for the great reckoning

for their time
to rise and shine.

Poem of the Day 01.20.23

walking home from work in the rain

i think
about the big shots
who still get to work from home
three days a week

i think
about how they
changed our schedules around
for shits and giggles
and how now
i miss each bus i need to take home

i think
about city budget cuts
a forty-five-minute wait
in between buses
and the futility of existence

i think about the mayor
warm and home in his big fat mansion

i think
the streets are too dark
the neon too blurry
and how nights like this
feel like walking home blindfolded

i think
about how i’ve killed my eyesight
reading all of those books
that have given me nothing
but delusions of grandeur

i think of poets
and how the written word is dead

i think
about my broken couch at home
cold vodka in a tumbler
rock and roll music on the player
and my wife waiting for me

i think
there’s still two miles
left to go
on this goddamned walk
and how my feet feel
like they’re splashing around
in an ocean

as i shiver,
i think i’m underdressed

i go back
to thinking about
the futility of existence
which leads me to work
which always leads me to america

i think america is horseshit
and lies wrapped up in a flag

except i still love baseball

i think
my stomach is rumbling
because i’m always too sick of existence
to eat food at my job

i think that i live
in a microwaved nightmare
of car horns and wailing sirens
and madmen digging through garbage cans
of people too worn down
to find away out of this misery
of children in schools
being taught nothing 

but how to sit for eight hours a day
so that they can replace us
when the time comes

i think of world ending asteroids
falling from the sky
or nuclear bombs ripping through cities
and how it wouldn’t be so bad

i think i’m just wet
and worn out and tired tonight

and that an umbrella 

would’ve paid for itself by now.