Monday, November 29, 2010
I lost my sun glasses today.
My sun glasses hung on the collar of my t-shirt while I dumped hard in a Starbuck's bathroom. Slightly leaning forward to wipe, my sunglasses fell from my neck and landed on my boxers, bouncing them between my legs and into the dump filled toilet bowl. There is no amount of rubbing alcohol that will clean away the memory of seeing my glasses float in shit and piss. God damnit, that is another 10-15 dollars that I have to spend.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
I think this is my best poem.
The prompt was about being stuck in an elevator by yourself.
Sorry I was late
All I wanted was a bag of Funyuns
and the fourth floor vending machine
to have some. Onion flavored rings
will solve everything.
I’ve been staring at “L” for 23 minutes
now contemplating what I have done
paralyzed with how dumb
this excuse sounds.
Shouting for help does nothing,
but make me feel like I’ve tried
everything. Nothing. No help.
“In case of fire or Funyuns, use the stairs.”
I once saw a Youtube clip of a man
trapped in an elevator for 41 hours.
Man,
fuck.
Cell phone at the desk
I am unvoiced.
I check my watch as if it could
shoot a laser to carve myself an escape.
The reflection forces me to stare at the face
of my reckless decision.
I am a fish whose owner went on vacation
and may possibly never come back.
I could be here for a while.
All I wanted was a bag of Funyuns.
Sorry I was late
All I wanted was a bag of Funyuns
and the fourth floor vending machine
to have some. Onion flavored rings
will solve everything.
I’ve been staring at “L” for 23 minutes
now contemplating what I have done
paralyzed with how dumb
this excuse sounds.
Shouting for help does nothing,
but make me feel like I’ve tried
everything. Nothing. No help.
“In case of fire or Funyuns, use the stairs.”
I once saw a Youtube clip of a man
trapped in an elevator for 41 hours.
Man,
fuck.
Cell phone at the desk
I am unvoiced.
I check my watch as if it could
shoot a laser to carve myself an escape.
The reflection forces me to stare at the face
of my reckless decision.
I am a fish whose owner went on vacation
and may possibly never come back.
I could be here for a while.
All I wanted was a bag of Funyuns.
Another Poem.
This poem had to be about a relative.
The Worst Thanksgiving Ever
No matter how hard I try, I will never forget
those bulky glasses that magnified that vacant stare,
or the way he filled a room
horizontally and vertically.
Whenever he breaches his lips,
Hammond, Indiana, can be heard.
He constantly reminded everyone of
his post office adventures
by dressing the part
every
single
day.
Short short short blue shorts,
his ill-fitting hat that hid
his bald head,
and the shirt that held his fat
like a dam moments
before it bursts.
I never understood his fascinations with Iguanas
nor the need for him to let them crawl
beneath his shirt
inside McDonalds.
My burger was nicely
complimented with stares.
Still a child, I was relieved
when he justified himself
with the simple excuse
“I’m homosexual, Brian.”
“That’s great, Uncle Jim,
I thought you were fucking crazy.”
The Worst Thanksgiving Ever
No matter how hard I try, I will never forget
those bulky glasses that magnified that vacant stare,
or the way he filled a room
horizontally and vertically.
Whenever he breaches his lips,
Hammond, Indiana, can be heard.
He constantly reminded everyone of
his post office adventures
by dressing the part
every
single
day.
Short short short blue shorts,
his ill-fitting hat that hid
his bald head,
and the shirt that held his fat
like a dam moments
before it bursts.
I never understood his fascinations with Iguanas
nor the need for him to let them crawl
beneath his shirt
inside McDonalds.
My burger was nicely
complimented with stares.
Still a child, I was relieved
when he justified himself
with the simple excuse
“I’m homosexual, Brian.”
“That’s great, Uncle Jim,
I thought you were fucking crazy.”
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