Poems: one about each day of last week


Here is a cycle of poems, one poem for each day starting last Saturday and ending today (Friday)







Saturday

a day in bed, play sick/be sick
Mama Celeste pizza, Robitussin,
Overboard with Goldie Hawn
call up the liquor store on the phone
2 bottles of pinot noir,
“I got 25 dollars, however far that gets me”
pajamas, faux fur lined moccasins
coffee pot after coffee pot

editing this novel–it’s been too long
my girl cooing like a dove on her cellphone
Spam messages from Russian brides
seeking hookups in America
is this a test from God?
Pauley Shore on VHS,
Joy Division cassettes, Moulder,
Dominican chickens, Skully,
Reese’s Peanut butter cups
Nightmare on Elm Street poster
puffer fish doomsday lantern
it’s colder outside than it looks
a hooded sweatshirt is a suit of armor
Let it Ride with Richard Dreyfuss
Our Rolling Stones Vinyl Hot Rocks
has a jagged chip cracked off
so be diligent: when you get to Wild Horses
shit’s about to get real 1/2 way through the chorus
extra blanket heat not on yet
land lord comes up at 7, says:
the guy in the next apartment died
so if you knew him, he’s dead now
we say, “We don’t know anybody in real life,
just on the computer”






Sunday

build chili out of meat and some other things
watch TV for awhile, wishing it was Twin Peaks
solve sitcom mysteries, devour books on tape
watch my girl tongue-tie the stems of cherries
no football or baseball or political discussions
just bedroom laying, coffee cup poison
John Hughes advice, steak-ums on english muffins
reserve time to reserve plane tickets to the SW

order gem stone field guides, Audubon bird books
3/4 length pony baseball t’s, Ebay, Amazon, Etsy
don’t shave don’t complain, don’t worry,
just flip the record, and keep loving me
we broke the washing machine, we crashed the car
we lost the spare keys, we dropped the ball
& have no idea how we’re gonna hide our mutations
and it’s almost Halloween, we’re misplaced
we outta sorts, somebody lend me some latex
if I get you pregnant, let’s name the baby Ace
make some popcorn, put on T-Rex,
start a fire though we don’t have a fireplace
digging in X-mas boxes for loose leaf paper,
photographs of you when you were young
yer still young, throw some popcorn up into the air
I’ll grab it like a wolf, catching a rabbit peaking out a hole
talk awhile about life after death, infomercials
telemarketing, negotiations with Iggy Pop
compromises with the Zombies, ignoring Rubber Soul
share the last beer, study the light in your eyes
everybody else: Piano Man or Tiny Dancer
I don’t think they’ll ever die, only in the movies
make a phone call to Texas, talk to my brother
so glad when he answers and says he’ll come to Jersey



Monday

I put on my army coat, I dust off my neon sneakers
got the garbage in one hand, a cartoon shark mug in the other
coffee, black coffee, 4am; just shooting everywhere
as I come down the marble stairs, door slams, 4am
In the foyer of my building are junk magazines
books on C++ programming, tour pamphlets for New Mexico
guy somewhere somehow (someone) died somewhere in the building
there’s a  little note: “take what you want, this belonged to the dead guy, the rest will go to charity” I look but I find nothing, I walk out into the rain

no umbrella, no hat, rain overflows the drain,
New York City, where’d I leave my car? what street? 173? 174?
Demi Moore used to look good … long ago
Glossy People Magazine on the radiator when you die,
that’s what you get in our building when you go
I wonder “Is he the one who always ordered Indian food?
Oh. Yes. 172. I should have remembered 172
What is C++? Would it help me? Should I go back and get it?
I’m going to New Mexico. Should have taken that one
God leaves little clues for you, but they just lead to more clues
and more clues and more clues and more clues and
who has time for any of that? Surrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrender to:
the morning commute. Rolling through the neighborhood
approaching the George Washington Bridge
Rolling Stones on the stereo, windshield wipers malfunctionable
“I forgot my lunch” look in the back seat, “Fuck”
Look on the floor, “Fuck. I’ll have to eat off the roach coach truck”
Mick Jagger says: “Bring me dead flowers to my wedding
… and I won’t forget to put roses on your grave”
Jersey turnpike, rolling towards the oil refinery, New Order
How Does it Feel? Tell me how Does it Feel? Finish my coffee.
Weave in and out of traffic, steering with my knee
awash of static on the radio, Blue Monday, Tom Petty,
“Was he the guy who’s mail I used to get, the nameless faceless
one behind the door to 14B?”



Tuesday

Duck outta work early
make it out the gates of
the job at the oil refinery
gravel lot,
chain link fence,
mimic Paul Newman
in the Great Escape
fires from the flare stack

burning up the white sky
got my car keys in one hand
checking my phone with the other
my girl is on a train
from New York City
coming to me
Linden, New jersey
try to time it right
be there, waiting at the station
take her into the west
for a car ride
first, navigate
through a maze of blocks,
red lights, stop signs, gang kids
lounging on the stoops
trash cans, basketballs hoops
what a strange place to have to live
industrial row house
chipped brick wall waste
cross over 1 & 9
cut through the 99 cent store lot
Wood Ave, gas n go, office stationary
post office, Army Navy,
a park with no lakes and no swans
I park under an unidentifiable shade tree
my neon sneakers kicked out in front
sitting on the last of the green grass
drinking a Dunkin Donuts Coffee
I smell like fuel
but I can’t tell
cars running/windows down
stereo growls
Bruce Springsteen insinuating
“This is my hometown …
this is my hometown”
keep checking my silver Timex Indiglo
everything in life is supposedly scheduled
not much longer now
her time, her light, her life, her mouth
looking up the rails for Spout
when the train comes in
she’s the last one on the platform
flower dress
dark hair, dark everything
sea green dayyglo purse
she takes my hand, says,
“Want me to drive?”
“No,” I answer
I need you navigate and play music.”
Spout nods, “That’s much more important
you’re right.”
any direction will work
but we can only get there
set to the perfect soundtrack



Wednesday

on payday
all your problems
temporarily lift
and everything
becomes a ladder
that leads
wherever you wish





Thursday

clicking around the internet aimlessly
free association, Queen under pressure David Bowie
trying to figure out what the fuck with Halloween
what we gonna be, which demon, which ghost
where we going? where we rolling?
big suit, David Bryne, record reviews,
lusting for my time machine
a meet up with 1976 Debra Harry

drinking pumpkin beer like a pumpkin patch pimp
hanging with Spout in the pink room
new chair from “the dead guy” that was out at the curb
“Think there’s bed bugs in it”
“It’s a chair”
“Bed bugs can still be in a chair”
“Oh, chair bugs?
Totally has chair bugs”
Astral Weeks, Moondance
Van Morrison sings like a god damn saxophone
guy couldn’t have been human, “everyone, everyone
everyone everyone everyone, everyone
everyone everyone everyone, everyone
everyone everyone everyone, everyone
everyone everyone,” Royal Tenebaums”
“Ethel, I’m dying” Angelica Houson, Gene Hackman
then, Spout gets up and goes to make burritos
she puts on Daft Punk and I hear the chopping
the sizzling, the ‘Harder Better Faster Stronger’
I’m rolling around on my trash found Herman Miller chair
thinking about lit mags to submit to:
jmww, killpoet, the big jewel, thrush review, modus operandi
elimae, word riot, pank, full of crow, a-minor
sometimes I feel lost. website after website
but when a friend out there there there in the ether
takes the time to drop a hint on their timeline
I add it to my blue notebook and I refer back motherfucker
pop music, beer after beer after beer,
I’m writing a novel on my Iphone at my oil refinery job
it’s about me when I was 23,
I’m gonna be a character in my own book
and I’m gonna tell you all about death
and life and pink that I’ve seen
like an Ipod on shuffle, Robert Zimmerman
Bob Dylan Blonde on Blonde
into Dusty Springfield
singing, “Only one that could ever reach me was the
son of a preacher man”
I see the subtle ways the universe aligns
I’m dumb and numb and happy
and when I fall asleep
I’d like you to lean in
and kiss my eyelids
so I can dream like a movie about a band
and write about it during the working hours
at the oil refinery, the machinery trembling
and my thumbs skipping across the LCD
as if my life depended on it





Friday

hang out in the rain
not worried about anything
books I should be reading
things I should be finishing
too many projects,
too much hope on the line
there a buzz in all the blood
if you keep your heart open

there’s a truth you can learn
if you don’t care to look stupid
all the ways you are here for me
all the ways I hide the car keys
life is just a typo
that everyone edits a different way
be careless and be unoriginal
and don’t walk too straight
take every chance to stumble
laugh at all you come across
forget all the bad times
glow neon undoomed and
shake yourself til something pops



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4 Replies to “Poems: one about each day of last week”

  1. I love the simplicity and joy of Wednesday the best of all, money aside–but it’s amazing how for those of us who do live floating from payday to payday, there’s a joy in that day that maybe those better off than us have forgotten how to savor.

      1. Yeah, those are good! Although I wouldn’t say that slow irntrptetaeion/compilation or the need for several languages are necessarily indicators of complexity. Some languages just have slow compilers, some projects are just large, and sometimes you have to use multiple tools to get the job done.-Max

    1. I read Code Simplicity cover to cover yesterday! (Do ebokos have covers ?). And enjoyed it! I’d say about 50% I agree with and the remaining 50% I strongly agree with! I guess I could nit-pick a couple of points, (and look forward to doing so at some future date!), but on the whole, I agree mostly with your initial statement that, whatever else it may be, it’s a start! And a very *workable* start!I wouldn’t mind seeing a blog/class/lunch series, with one rule or law per class period (or blog entry) put up for discussion! That would be an interesting conversation!I have two irrelevant-to-the-point-of-coding comments to add:One totally new thing I got from the book was the physical organization. Each Law, Rule, Fact, Definition, is identified as it occurs and then when I got to the end, I was treated to an Appendix listing every one of them! That created a fantastic review of the whole book! I liked that a lot, it was like scanning over, almost mentally re-reading, the entire book in the last 5 minutes! Awesome!Another irrelevant but maybe interesting point was the WAY I read it: via iPad iBooks app. I read an AWFUL lot, but almost always via a web browser. I notice I pretty constantly scroll as I read; on the iPad my thumb keeps the text rising like an auto-prompter so that my eyes always stay at about the same height; and on the Mac, I read with two fingers resting on the trackpad doing the same thing. But iBooks keeps the text stationary and my eyes went from top to bottom. I can’t say whether that was superior or not, I just struck me as different, and a reminder that we’ve come a long way since, what are they called, those paper things, oh yea, BOOKS!One humorous stupidity: I went to the iBook table of contents once and it only goes to Chapter 2 on the screen. I spend a good five minutes trying to get the remaining chapters to display. The page wouldn’t turn! I almost gave up and decided it was a bug, when I realized, the toc SCROLLS!!!!!! Anyway, you have done a very nice job, thank you very much! I enjoyed it, and I’m sure my programming will gain from it in the future!Steve – We are having fun now!

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