Wednesday, January 4, 2023

poems 13

save a thought ...

I remember all the homeless
my mother and I saw in New York everyday
we always gave them a dollar
and they would always say
Thank you, sir
I sometimes think about all the mentally ill
who sit in small rooms and scream
or laugh all day at nothing at all
or write poetry—
maybe one had something to do with the other
all the ugliness of New York
is enough to kill your soul, drive you insane
and sometimes when a person
loses their mind
sad to say
it never comes back
so think about all these people
every now and then
with a tear in your eye
and a yellow rose.


ghosts

thunder and rain
on a warm summer night

alone in my apartment
always alone

alone in so many ways

I mostly remember my father
and hate him

then sometimes I forgive him
and hate myself

did you ever wonder
what the rain
thinks
when it’s falling?

there’s ghosts wandering
the playgrounds
under the night-rain
wishing the moon
and the stars were out
so they could remember the past
too.

 

they got what they wanted

my dad was a drunk asshole

my mom’s dad was a drunk asshole

they did everything they could think of
to drive me and my mom
insane, make sure we failed in life

the 2 assholes are dead now
but they got what they wanted

me and my mom have been mentally ill
to one degree or another
for 35 years now

and we’re stuck here
in piece of shit America
surviving as best we can

    as best we can.

 


Americans

fat
beer-drinking
football-watching
flag-waving
troops-honoring
trailer trash
who get into fights at Walmart
who go to restaurants
and spend all evening yelling
who watch America’s Got Talent
who let their large vicious dogs
roam the streets
who hate immigrants (like me)
and want to build a wall on the border--
    what ugly hole in the universe
    did you crawl out of?
    and how do I shove you back in there?



learning guitar


my fingers seem to have
minds of their own

always doing what they want
not what I tell them

but then I do something 100 times
and get the hang of it

I can play blues
and rockabilly rhythms well enough

(you only need one note
at a time if you want)

if I get good enough maybe
someday I can join a punk band

and we’ll write songs about
the US military

and other babykillers.



“self-radicalized”


I got away
from the Bulgarian
pederasts

now I just have to
get away
from you American
trailer trash

it helps to be
“self-radicalized”

(communist
not Islamist)

I need to start
buying guns.


sharp

my temporary
lapses of sanity
are sparrows
flying into
barbed wire.



it took me 12 years

to figure out
that the prescriptions
my doctor was giving me
were posioning me.

I stopped taking them
without telling her.

I guess 12 years is nothing
in a universe almost
30 billion years old.

nevertheless,
it’s yet another crow
on the horizon

one more little thing
pushing me ever closer
to the edge.