not a poem
it's a damn shame i can't write
this poem as it is, as it happens,
but it's about work, & we know
some of the factory people have looked
upon this board in the past
& so i figure the present too
to see what i might
write about them. well, this isn't
a poem about them ,
not particularly,
but an hour & a half ago
i'm standing by myself
while most of the other
3rd shift crew
is down by the savage #3
press in loud shirts in hopes
of winning $10 gift certificates
for pizza for wearing the
loudest shirt. girl from
the office is judge --
our new supervisor
has a crush on her.
she's in her 20's.
he's 51 & i'll wager
he can drink bart
under the table.
i see it all surreal
in the future:
she's issuing a
restraining order against
his stalkings
he always smells like booze.
no, this is not a poem
about work, no, nor
factory abstractions
ebbing along avenues of
perversion
& embarrassment.
i've just run
the 500 ton erie
foundry press
with a broken steam-line,
old micky-mouse'd
machine, strenuous,
i must stand on a platform
to lift the long part
out of the mold,
up & down, up & down
all night.
this isn't a poem
about
any of that.
grand statements
lisa is quite upset.
she tells her dad,
homer, "just because
you say something
doesn't make it
true!"
homer is
absolutely
oblivious
what
that
means
oh
honey
he
gushes
that's so
true
what's relevant
piss first
that's the plan
piss & get
another
can of beer
ann
is completely
in dreamland
with a box-fan
blowing on her naked box
if i turn
our hallway
light on
i'll see
her again
her cunt
her ass
her curved
position
where we fuck best
like yesterday
evening
while darkness
sands down
twilight
car-horns
neon buzziness
insects magnetized
to
man-made lights in night
ann is out
like a hiked-dress vault-jumper
frozen
felled
on her side
is she
running
as she
dreams
snores
myself
awake
like this
i really
need to piss
father's little helper
i try not
causing
uproars
but if
i remain
bottled
i'll explode
murder
suicide
devise
torture
chambers
kidnap
katie
couric
video it all
ebay it
bigtime
get fast cash
split before
the feds
hit
& they
hit
hard
one quick
hand-off
this
for
that
then
run
run
as
fast
as you've
ever
run
stop next
week
count
yr
blessings
bow
to
buddha
to allah
to a grandfather-faced god
either that
or be
me
steps away
from
the gutter
if that
oceans
sway
loose
edges
of stone
tumble
tenuous
is this
cyberspace
life
whereas
the meat world
is a flower-
child's dream
gloss us
water-color us
molest us
make us photographs
i ventured out
indian-shoes, no socks,
in green shorts & green
wife-beater t-shirt
with my green & leather-
rim ballcap
& dark sunglasses
in our red jeep
first i need cash
from the machine
inside the shell
gasoline station
& while i'm at it
a package of
buns -- sale's-
clerk lady
treats me
like a piece
of shit
like she
knows
i'm
maybe
buzz'd
& after that
it's the
beer store
where i
buy
another 12-pack
of rolling rock
cans
eight seventy five
clerk there
a young guy
is ok
just thumbs
the dollar
& the quarter
into the middle
of my palm
saying
thank
you
sir
& now
i'm home
& will get
intoxicated
ann's in virginia
until tomorrow
evening
i ventured out
into sticky, foggy,
hazy, after hail-storm,
gray nearing-evening
air,
& it
is hell
out
there.
i'm cooking
steaks
ann already
prepared
i just have
to heat
& both air-
conditioners
are running
& i have
many many
cans of rolling
rock
to gulp
down,
not
leaving
this
torn-down
apartment,
half-
packing
for our
move in
a mere
2 weeks
a big old
house
at the
end of
a dark
alley
close to
the train-tracks
& churchbells
of erie.
if
if our body is one appendage,
sleek, fat in the middle
like a coagulating drip
of syrup; if our arms
blend into our sides
& our legs connect
like mermaids' tails
or bottoms of arrows,
all one
shape of curves
& roundness;
if we ARE arrows, really,
aiming up as if each &
every human is an inter-
continental missile
shooting above
atmosphere
& then after-burners
ignite,
6 billion sleek
missiles float
into space, eternal,
eyes burnt to tiny diamonds,
flesh comes off
like shuttle-craft
tile,
the mind of a man
is an expanding field
of stars & black matter.
read up
click to view movie/poem - eggs