Archive for November, 2008

Bail Out
November 23, 2008

as congress and the nation pour
billions into a wall street bail out
and as everyone from detroit to
institutions of higher learning stick
out their filthy hands for their piece
of free cake and ice cream i click
submit on nelnet’s payment page
and drop another chunk to pay for
my own stupidity: ballooning pay-
ments for a student loan majoring
in idiocracy and surrealism


Cell Phone
November 23, 2008

people look at me crazy when i tell
them i do not have a cell number
because I do not have a cell phone
look at me like i’m unintelligent or
a loser and i smile inside because i
know who will not be bugging me
when they want my undivided and
total attention or ask me to do
something for which i’d have make
excuses. yes, i smile and act dumb

November 20, 2008

the birch across the pond looks
like white lightning against
the dark november sky

Through the Window
November 20, 2008

as the white snow blurs the
sky, one remaining maple
leaf shakes in the breeze

Little Man
November 20, 2008

he is a little man with even
littler ideas who believes he
is king in his imaginary world

A Meeting Poem
November 20, 2008

as this meeting refuses to end
i fantasize of finding an oil
covered screwdriver that i
could shove into my left eye

~it would be less painful~

Dog Poop
November 19, 2008

sitting on my front porch and having
a morning coffee i watch all these
people walking their dogs and bending
over with wal-mart plastic bags and
picking up their dog’s poop as fido or
princess jerk their owners because
they’ve already spotted their next
territory to lay another hot turd or two

as i lift my cup to my lips i shutter as
i try and imagine what those logs of
moist and mushy feces must feel like
first thing in the morning and know
inwardly that only the most perverse
individual could enjoy such activities
and not want to rush home and soak
their hands and fingers in a hot bowl
of chemicals that disinfect and purify

my coffee is going down hard and
a dog barks while their owner looks
up into my direction, beautiful morn
isn’t it, she says. i nod and say that
it sure is, all the while watching her
fold this steaming bag of crap in
her hands and stuff it into her jacket
and i think silently that i’d rather eat
a bowl of broken glass for breakfast
than to dig that bag of poop out of my
pocket when i got home from walking
the dog

Death of the Profession
November 18, 2008

as i listen to my peers worry over
resources that do not conform with
traditional bibliographic dogma and
as the sounds of their voices turn
to contempt and ridicule i realize
that i am bearing witness to the
death dance of a profession that
could not and would not embrace
change as the rest of the world
drank and gathered nourishment
from the electronic well of
knowledge and enlightenment

Self Checkout Lane
November 15, 2008

as the annoyed checkout girl grunts
while clearing another of my seven
mistakes i realize standing in another
line would have been much quicker

November 15, 2008

someone left the door of our
garage open and there are
as many leaves inside as out