CJ Laity "was very helpful when I came to Chicago in discovering what was going on and introducing me to all sorts of great friends. CJ was even generous enough to review my chapbook and I found his site an excellent source of poetry news and event organization"
--Kristy Bowen, Publisher of Dancing Girl Press
The following e-book is copyrighted 2006 by ChicagoPoetry.com Press; all rights reserved.
NO HOPE, NO FEAR
C. J. Laity
ChicagoPoetry.com Press
2006
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the written permission of the author.
1
SAN FREEDOM
This Is How It Happened
As I stood upon my battleship
She came to the helm crying
Said she saw her reflection in the water,
fell in love with it
Said she would need to jump overboard
I begged her no, what is down there below
That she couldn't find up here with me
A life with the mermaids, she said
A life without you or this battleship, my own life
But you are jumping over the edge of a battleship, I pleaded
Surely you should take me with you
To protect you against the sharks
You are mistaken, she said, wiping her tears
It is I who have been protecting you
I'll make you a deal, she promised
I will only go for a swim
I will go see what is down there
I will see what sunken treasures there are
And try on the coral reef for size
But then I will come back
Because I need you
and I love you, I promise, I promise . . .
So she bought a designer bikini for seven bucks off a pirate
Dove right in despite my objections
Disappeared for a couple of days
Once in a while some breath would rise
And I could hear her voice trying to find me
Bug I ignored her, not wanting to get in her way
And finally she rose to the surface
You are home, I announced with much glee
You are mistaken, she said, drunk with excitement
My home is down there, not up here with you
She marked the date on the calendar
On her birthday she would jump overboard
To be with the mermaids
To be with the reflection of herself from the past
And every day she packed her bubbles
I made love to her and wept deeply
Every morning I would spoon her
A big smile would form on her face
Though I knew she was thinking of her life
away from me when she smiled
I told all the troops to congratulate her
And we all threw her a big party
With confetti and corks popping
Though I didn't know what for
There is certainly a lot of pressure
At the bottom of the ocean
Some dangers as well, I told her
You are mistaken, she said, giddy with gadgets
It is you who will be in danger without me
She wrapped everything she owned in a giant pea pod
And a helicopter floated over, carried it away in a net
She told me to send down Morse code signals
To alert the mermaids of her arrival
And I did, even faced with the absurd
I could not refuse her requests
She kissed me, pet me like a dog
As she celebrated with her friends
Over the brokenness of my heart
But it all felt wrong despite her confidence
And every time I spoke with her
It was like speaking to a stranger
Like her mind had been washed
Of our long journey together
As if the glimmering sea had hypnotized her
As if the song of the whales were whispering secrets
Please stop this nonsense, I bellowed
You are not a mermaid, you will drown
You are mistaken, she said with her hands on her thighs
You are the one drowning, and I can no longer save you
As I stood upon my battleship
With its roaring turbine under my feet
With its guns ready to blaze at will
I waved goodbye
Though my heart was sinking
I watched her walk out onto the plank
Suitcase in hand and lei around her neck
There was a roar of applause
She blew everyone a kiss
Stepped over
Dropped straight down
The water went kaploot
and she was gone
Lexapro
For one minute can we put aside who you slept with or that day when I got drunk or who works harder than who or who is right or who is wrong -- and talk about your puppet master Lexapro, the pill that pulls the string out of your back so that you can function in a methodical routine without having to feel anything in your heart. The subject has been so taboo with you. You either are screaming at me why you need to be on it or sobbing about why you have the strength to get off it. It closes your eyes and poof you are gone. No one to make love to. No one to share my life with. Just a big pill of Lexapro, sitting on the couch, trying to focus. A walky talky what the fuck nothing matters I don't feel a thing and it feels just fine, somehow managing to brush your teeth before you collapse. I lost my lover to Lexapro, that bastard mind controlling Svengoulie. It has not exactly taken your emotions away, only the emotions of others, so that you can no longer empathize, and if you never have to worry about others, you'll do just fine. It's like that haunted car Christine has a plan for you that doesn't include me, is guiding you step by step through her diabolical feminism, introducing you to her smiling friend Lexapro, who always has the good stuff and never disappoints. Dancing you around like a marionette with fragile wooden legs drunkenly kicking, convincing you that it is your choice. No, it is Lexapro's choice. Since the first day you dried up like the Vermilion river, it all went to dust, your tears, your longing, your passion, that European womanhood you still dream about, the sex between your legs. Nobody warned me. Christine did not have the balls to prepare your lover for whatever it was that she was guiding you through. The haunted car just revved up to your delight, caring not one iota for the person who would ultimately get hurt when she completed her master plan for Lexapro and you to wed. Nobody introduced Lexapro to me. It just suddenly appeared, and always held your hand, walking you to and fro as if you were blind, and you began to become transparent, until I could see through you to the other side, until one day you were no longer there at all. Congratulations. You are now flying through the sky straddled on your pill of Lexapro, singing the theme to the Mary Tyler Moore show to the moon.
Off The Wagon
Pour me a stiff one make it a double
We're going to celebrate that I'm off the wagon
We're going to have going away party for my sobriety
The good times are back let's rock and roll
And the dry heave toothbrush morning ritual
The time bomb driver looking for an excuse
He's back with glass of porter and a half pint
You can all relax and wet your whistle
I'll finally have one with you, finally be your friend
I give up already, I'm crying uncle
A staggering swaggering blubbering horseshit talker
Hugging you whether you like it or not
Mouth made of gaseous dungeons and vinegar sweat
As the money runs out it gets as cheap as Hams
Smile on my face holding the pudding in my ass
Welcome back the party animal loved by many
Waking up to a stranger with a thick mustache
Dance to Imitation of Christ on a flimsy speaker
Arrested in the Jewel for watching the boxes pirouette
Pump that kegger I'm rearing to go
Won't worry about it until the next morning I promise
Make it more acceptable, put on a nice label
Or plain paper bag on the floor in the corner
My true lover come out of your bottle, I'm yours
Sympathy Fuck
I want my sympathy fuck
You gave me your cash
But that's not enough
I want a piece of you
I want to fuck you
At least as hard
As you think you're fucking me
I want to fuck you sideways
On your knees
In orifices you didn't even know existed
The way I like it for a change
Just fuck you, no really, fuck you!
Because you never let me fuck you
I mean really, just lick my lips and fuck you
In the half-decade we slept together
Never once let me have one good fuck
A fuck that didn't include a mind fuck
A fuck that wasn't all fucked up
You remember how to get fucked, don't you
You certainly fucked enough men
Before you began "making love" to me
A fuck where I get to be the man for a change
Dirty talking boozie smelling filthy farty shithole of a man
But what the fuck
It's a good fuck
Fuck the challenge of giving you an orgasm
When I spread you open all I see is a pink question mark
Made of more question marks
Even more question marks inside those question marks
Like some kind of stupid fucking fractal into infinity
How about you just shut the fuck up for once
Play along for a change
How about a good old-fashioned fuck
You owe me a sympathy fuck
Because I want the other man to know
What it feels like
When somebody else is inside of you
And I want you to know
That I know
That it is nothing
But
A
Sympathy fuck
And I also want you to know
That your sympathy is in vain
Because I don't give a fuck
I know it's just a fuck
I know you're just doing me a fucking favor
Whoring yourself out for my cooperation
I'm no fucking idiot
But I want it anyway
I want to fuck you like you're a stranger
Forget the fucking passion
I want you to wonder
Why all of a sudden I have a monster for a cock
Because you're the one leaving me
But I want to make it crystal clear
Who's fucking who
Twenty-Three Pairs Of Shoes
One for when you puked on the platform
it looked just like your precious painting
One for when you did your hairdresser
doggy style in the back of his salon
One for when you grew it out
turning on your side so I could smother
One for when you talked to Shelly
told her you were leaving before you told me
One for going on a diet
then using your new body as a weapon
One for when you went to Wonderbar
happy holidays to you too my love
One for when you wouldn't stand up for me
let me crash for your moral principles
One for the handful of pills you swallowed
then having the gall to fear me suicidal
One for your friend the fugitive murderer
isn't he a lot like me
One for how you broke my heart
you asked me what's the matter now
One for thinking you were a psychonaut
opening doors you had no right to
One for my cracked rib and your response
wasn't as important as an episode of West Wing
One for all the lies you told
mainly the one about your new dress
One for turning me inside out
what a feeling of power it must have been
One for your promise to never leave me
bought and sold in a Jerusalem temple
One for your phony bachelorette party
it showed what marriage really meant
One for the years with the Zionists
for pretending that you weren't one of them
One for passing out on the couch
at nine o'clock every night of the week
One for calling me a straw man
now you know that there is blood
One for having a problem with my job
you made me believe you preferred the alternative
One for the weeping in the bathroom
and the lack of tears when they were needed
One for all the pot you smoked
there are many different kinds of addicts
One for never cleaning the house
somebody had to do it you ungrateful bitch
Acceptance
I said the angels are in mourning
My chest opened like a garage door
The flood pouring out too sincere for words
She said what are you crying for
People do it to each other every day
My grieving piled up like cotton
Denial, anger, bargaining, depression
Ominous tension looming in the air
She stuck her foot up and wiggled her toes
I think I'll go get my nails done
The minutes turned to hours, the hours turned to days
Each moment my heart ached to be close to her
Knowing the last moment was scheduled to arrive
She said dude check out my new phone
It (like) takes pictures and everything
And when the song played I decomposed
Broke down into a blob of nothingness
Melted at her feet like a stain on the carpet
But her nose was buried in Savage Love
She guffawed and read me something gross
And then she made me sublet our apartment
And then she made me help her pack
And then she made me move her furniture
And then she made me take care of her cat
And then she made me make love to her
Making sure I knew that she was also bored with that
So now I've reached the point of acceptance
A month's journey through dungeon traps
Walked my mile over thin ice
She's going to make someone else real happy
She's going to make someone a good wife
San Freedom
it is told
the goldfish are made out of gold
the homeless ask for spare c-notes
and the cloud is a smiling face
only raining upon request
in San Freedom,
poets believe in psychotherapy
want to have it performed on them
get their annual check ups
get their teeth cleaned and whitened
career path the only war path
and all the men read the New Yorker,
all the men are rich
sensitive, understanding,
and will eat you out like a rubbermaid mop
will forgive your every discretion
in San Freedom,
i have heard
no one gets sore feet walking its hills
and everything is recycled
and recycled
and recycled
there are cute little dresses in every window
affordable, like the haircuts
and it is always spring, the only fever
no such word as unemployed
no dreamers, no miracles, you earn what you get
none of the dicks are finicky fellows
none of that in San Freedom
the ground rumbles
hungry for you in San Freedom
no melted tootsie roll on the sidewalk
the city lights become a bookstore
the winter just a scent in the air
not meant for the man who bites his toenails
not meant for a househusband
not San Freedom
instead shoes,
shoes galore,
and bras that keep you
looking twenty-four
the maids do the dishes
the cat pampers itself
the snuggles are expensive but worth it
if you can afford it, wardrobe hit
and there is no tooth decay in San Freedom
everyone has insurance, no one is off the books
nobody buys their glasses from Walgreens
nobody dares give their pet an enema
in San Freedom
somewhere a lost love flutters like a startled dove
a missing note
a missing beat
a lump in your throat
swallow hard even though it hurts
control, maintain, wipe your eyes
stand up tall
you are somebody
because you are in San Freedom
and there is no crying in San Freedom
because everything is simply hunky dory
Roll 'Em, Cut, That's A Take
Jesus turned down the chance to be my co-star
Something about me worshipping a false god
Way back then when I was a screwed up teenager
I put a blob of wax on my Catholic boy forehead
Imprinted my thumb in it like a Bollywood idol
Is that all it takes to offend the mighty Lord
What a hypocrite he was for holding it against me
All that talk about forgiveness and love
But then again I was his exception
And he wanted to have nothing to do with my show
So I called upon the Muse to do my bidding
To find a new team of writers for the next act
Completely overhaul this horrible script called my life
No more thick symbolism or Dadaesque absurdities
Nobody believes it anyway. Fire in the hole
Time for some realism or gentle human drama
Insert at least one twist that doesn't end twisted
Hell, get another director and producer as well
I cannot describe how bad the editing has been
Any attempt would put me up there with Sergei Esenin
And when the scenes were shot I called upon Cupid
to put Valentine hearts in her eyes once again
Plant the flashback in her brain, New Year 2000
When I filled her emptiness on the beanbag chair
She was suddenly lost in the passion of romance
Simply unable to say her goodbyes
Nothing else mattered, no desire more urgent
Than to wrap her arms around my belly
Kiss my chest and wet my shirt with her tears
Make love with abandon because there is no tomorrow
My new life premiered to a full house at the ArcLight
And I'll be damned if the Lord wasn't sitting there, third row
I stuck my tongue out, blew him a raspberry
He shrugged his shoulders, shoveled popcorn into his jowls
The lights went down and the spotlight was upon me
I said a few words then took a big bow
And the screen lit up and my dolby exploded
It may not have been reality but I could dance like John Travolta
A pistol in each hand and fighting twenty men with karate
Compromises have to be made when you're a mortal sin soul
The Blues
(Written for and performed on the Juke Joint Stage
at the Chicago Blues Festival, June 9, 2005)
Oh baby why you do me wrong
When I'm down you're out on the town
Tol' me to my face
Packin up join the rat race
Oh baby why you kick me when I'm down
Oh baby why you leavin me this way
Come home one day slapped the cold play
Break my fragile heart
Done got a head start
Oh baby you rollin in someone else's hay
Oh baby why you messin with my soul
Hang me out to dry on your flag-pole
Put on your high heel shoes
So you can stomp on my blues
Oh baby why you stuff my socks with coal
Oh baby what's your goddarn plan
Stuff me in a box for another man
This ain't no onion joke
You see my pockets' broke
And my heart's been thrown in your garbage can
Purple Bra
It's like something a child would wear
Your purple bra, there on the floor
Next to the blow up mattress I'm using
Losing air, my elbows touching the floor
You took the space age bed with you
That purple bra is a lot like you
At first glance so tender and innocent
But think about what it does
It holsters the two greatest weapons
Ever invented by God
Your purple bra is there on the floor
Waiting for me to surrender
Waiting for me to pick it up
Demonstrating its power over me
Does anyone else know what color it is
Now when I see all the little girls
With their blonde curls and blue eyes
I wonder what kind of beasts lurk there
What dominating caterpillar will emerge
When the butterfly goes into her cocoon
Will she rebel under her business suit
Knowing that her nipples mock the world
How much of it will she consume
When her womanhood blossoms
And she buys her first purple bra
I think I killed you in another life
But all I know is, I didn't kill you tonight
In some other dimension you became my wife
Purple wedding dress, heart shaped cake,
Wielding a shiny butcher's knife
2
FEAR OF POETS
Take My Identity, Please
They say I should worry about identity theft
They say that you might steal it
Well you can have it
I hope you do steal it
That would be poetic justice
Suddenly you would realize you're stuck with it
An all-consuming phantom you swiped like a card
And you know you can't just give it back
Because I don't want it
You can keep it
There, I'm leaving the keys in the ignition
With the door unlocked
It's your identity now, not mine
You wanted it so badly you had to take it
So live with it
Now you're the broke ass motherfucker
Living on a twin bed in a seventy square foot room
Everything from your Lincoln Square apartment
Jammed in there like a mockery of the past
That was your girlfriend who dumped you
Not mine
Off somewhere fucking her new lover
You stupid schmuck, you congratulated her
For cheating on you and playing you for the fool
They weren't kidding when they said nice guys finish last
I'll make sure that I forward all your mail to you
Because now it all belongs to you
All those lovely past due notices
It's your social security number now
I'll make sure the Northland group gets your listing
So that they can call you three times a day
Hoping you won the lotto
Have a good time talking to the IRS, Mr. Laity
I guess you bit off more than you can chew
Now the crazy neurotic egocentric narcissistic e-poets
Can fuck with you instead of me
Can kick you when you're down and vilify you
Can take advantage of the work you do
And then complain when you ask for a few dollars
And when you can't take it anymore
And you bitch slap that trailer trash right back
And her dumb ass brain dead bald boyfriend
Writes personal shit about your underwear
That only Jerry Springer could understand
They'll all say what a bully you are
Have fun with my identity, asshole
That was you on the TV, not me
You looked so gay it wasn't even funny
CNN cropped your words and pieced them together
So that you said what they wanted you to say
Here, I'll help you carry it away with you
It's all yours, everything I own
These clothes that I've been wearing for years
These sneakers that stink to high heaven
Those unexplained scars that suddenly appear on your wrist
And the hair that sprouts all over your body
Your belly bloats and you fart like a foghorn
And unless you douse yourself with cologne
You'll smell like a goat in a shit pen in summertime
How does it feel to have my identity
How does it feel to be wearing my cock
Stiff as a carrot when you're alone in bed at night
But for some unexplained reason it hides like a turtle's head
When confronted with someone you might love
Take advantage of it while it lasts
Because that's all you're likely to get for a while, buddy
So you hacked into my life and stole my identity
Great, now you're the one who is forty years old
Without a career, without any insurance
Can't afford to get a tooth pulled
Now it's your mother who is screaming on the phone
At Christmas time nonetheless
Telling you what a bad person you are
Tainting your relationships with her tales of abuse
That's the reflection of your sad eyes in the ornament
There isn't a present with your name under the tree
Santa gave you a stocking full of pain
Because he knows it makes you write better
Take this keyboard and write dammit write
Are you having a good time with my identity
I'm glad you stole it
I'm glad it is gone
I've never been happier than I am now without it
Thank you
My slate has been wiped clean
Bullshit
Despite the scars on skin and psyche
I decided to ride that fucker once again
Even though it had thrown me off
Like Raggedy Andy so many times before
Once I didn't make it out of the pen
Once it broke my arm like a toothpick
Once I went flying into the stands
Once it kicked me when I was fleeing
Once I hid behind a barrel with the clown
Once I was catapulted like a pumpkin
Once it's stride put me under a spell
Once it bit down and tore my wrist open
Once it left me with spots floating elastic
Once I chickened out and simply said fuck it
But there it was looming before me
Huffing and dragging the dirt with its hoof
Drawing lines like notches in a gun belt
With a big brass ring attached to its nose
So much fire coming out of its nostrils
That one would think the county was ready to explode
It looked me in the eye as if to say
You've gotta be kidding kid give it up already
Haven't you had enough of my wrath
It always ends the same and you know it
With your face in the dirt with your wind knocked out
Just to be a dork I wore a Jim Morrison shirt
Leapt upon its back and heehawed to the world
It could not believe my gall and it squealed
Yeah that monster started huffing and kicking
Whacking jacking jerking and ticking
But I hung on this time like a Zen Buddhist
At first my legs flopped like the wings of an ostrich
My fist gripping the saddle handle like a trailer on a hitch
But then an epiphany popped like a bubble
A feeling of well being engulfed my sentiment
And I let go of the horn and crossed one leg over the other
I might as well have been doing my taxes
That is in the fantasy world where I make any money
I might as well have been knitting a sweater
Or fucking on Viagra or planting an onion
Because I stayed on through the ups and downs
Through the side by sides and stops and goes
Through the stinky sweat and blurred vision
Cracked open a beer as that cocksucker roared
Shattering the gate to the outside world
Into the streets and across an orange sunset
I sat there as the morning dew purred
It kept up its pace and I kept riding
Through a snowstorm of glass as it went through a window
Lit up a fag as it beat itself against a wall
Trimmed my nails as it knocked down the cubicles
Lathered my jaw as it plowed down people
I don't know what it was that came over me
Maybe I just didn't give a flying fuck
I simply decided to stay on and nothing could stop me
Nothing it could do could toss me off
That son of a bitch was legitimately furious
It bucked itself right out of the city limits
But I merely stretched out and built a small fire
Licked the tip of my pencil and wrote an epic poem
It's violence flailed through every change of weather
Through a generation gap and the start of a war
Only pausing now and then to gasp and to grunt
Hunch back firm and take a big dump
It once jumped up on a little red sports car
Flattened it silly with a massive attack
I yawned and rolled over, content to be on its back
Scratched my sack and let out a jaded snore
After so long it grew tired of struggling
It must have given up as it began panting
Walking around dazed in a state of depression
Its eyes vacant like manhole covers
Looking back at me in anguished defeat
It slunk its head down and gave up the fight
As I road through town high on my prize
Waving at strangers, showing off my hostage
I had been part of it so long it felt like we were one
Even then I would not dismount, as if to set a record
Though my partner no longer cared about our relationship
Slinking around like a frozen field ox
How long had I been up there high in the sky
How carried away had I become with my victim
I looked around and discovered I knew no one
Houses had been torn down and replaced with condos
Friends had changed their numbers, had moved away
Everything I owned had been neglected
Repossessed or thrown out onto the street
And as the animal that I had conquered
Dawdled by a pond of ducks and canoes
I saw my reflection in the dark water
My hair had turned gray and my teeth were rotted
It dawned upon me that this wasn't forever
So I lost my balance and gravity took over
Before I knew it I had hit the ground
The blasted beast lifted its tail and released itself
Then it reared up and kicked me into the mess
Darted away to its life without me
Leaving me there
With my face in the dirt
With my wind knocked out
Once again
Hang-ups
I sat down next to you on the train that morning
For one brief moment, I thought I could like you
But then I had a certain deja vu
Call it a premonition that it would soon make its appearance
Knew you would pull it out of your pocket like a baby kangaroo
Could tell right off the bat by your fake eyelashes
By the stench of your perfume, by your starched hairdo
It only took 28 seconds for you to whip out your circuit board
Held to your ear like a silver seashell
I don't care if it shivered in your pants like Missy Elliot
You had to show it off, play a game on it, send a text message
Of absolutely no importance whatsoever
Snap a photo of your furry rabbit
Email it to yourself and open it for no one else
So I changed my mind, I don't like you
Because I caught you worshipping your cell phone
You were pampering it like a little embryo
That you zip up for safe keeping in your waist pack
You have a superficial ritual that turns me off
I bet you buy it brittle clothes all pink and purple
Go online to teach it how to sing
You gave your prize possession a loving look
Maybe you think you are cooler than cool
Or is it possible you felt my eyes upon you
Wanted me to know there is someone else
Inside the liquid crystal display
Used it like a wedding ring to fend off a potential pervert
Who is the pervert when it is glued to the side of your face
And you are saying Schnookum as if nobody else can hear
I'm sure most of the time it is not visible to the naked eye
As you walk down the sidewalk making people get out of your way
With your reflection in the bank's tinted window
Jabbering to yourself as if you are a lunatic
Tossing your arms around as if your gestures matter
To the person in his cubicle on the other side of town
With his legs up on his desk and the speaker cranked to eleven
He's real cool too with his asbestos ventilation system
The taxi driver was going to honk
But he suddenly realized you were only demented
Next they'll whirrrrrr a drill bit into your skull
Implant the damned thing right into your brain
You know that day is coming, honey
You'll cough and that will call Harpo Studios
You'll burp to get wobbly-legged Alyce
She'll be bounced off a satellite like a brown ping-pong ball
You'll sneeze to call your new lesbian lover
Long distance from San Francisco, all part of the plan
Unlimited nighttime and weekend bullshit
As long as you work your ass off to pay for it
And when you hear a ringing in your ears
You'll wonder only for a moment if it is me
Then you will remember that it couldn't be
You never gave me your number
Relieved, you will wiggle your nose like Bewitched
To find out what canned voice is in your mind this time
Oh, but I mistake you for someone who once took the time to meet me
In the first place
Let's get something straight, little miss consumer
I've changed my mind, I don't like you
And I don't like your cell phone
I am not impressed by it
I want to take it and make you smell it
Hang it from your nose off your glass stud
Once a symbol of rebellion now a fashion statement
I want to grab it out of the grasp of your neon fingernails
Hold it in my fist and yell at the top of my lungs
Don't you know half of your conversation is happening
In the grocery store over a box of tampons
Don't you know we're trying to eat our bagels
Or have a peaceful moment in the park
Without discovering what time is the next showing of Chicken Little
I don't have a clue what you've been talking about
But it seems to have something to do with anal warts
And it has gone on and on with high heels stomping
Through the halls of justice and into the bathroom stall
She didn't even wash her hands before stepping outside
Her magic plastic pinned between her shoulder and jaw
Crossing the street to the Walgreens without pausing for breath
Her elbow pointed at the honking horns
I don't like her!
And I don't like her cell phone, not in the slightest
I want to duct tape it to an Indiana rocket
Send it across a field of hay into the mysterious woods
There's no cross on your tiny contraption
It's not fat sitting Indian style smelling incense
So why are you worshipping it's glowing screen
Because it plays Ben Folds Five into your crack
Because it reminds you of the original Star Trek
Because for the moment it makes you
You, an insignificant peon, a lipstick dot within a million fucked up faces,
Feel important
Get over it already
Don't you know you traded your humanity in for your chatterbox
It is the pod that fell from space and took over your body
You'd sign a new contract before the good Samaritan calls
You're breaking my heart with your sick cell phones
All of you, an entire generation lost in the chaos of microwaves
So stick it in your crotch and wait for it to vibrate
Lay it on your pillow next to your dreams at night
Write it a love letter, give it a leather coat for Christmas
Pull out the antenna and point it at the blinking red light
What is so important that it has to be hashed out
Right there in the line at Waldenbooks
Or as you flash by eighty miles per hour on the Dan Ryan
Your entire world has been digitized
Encoded and sent into the clouds by your fifty grams of accessories
A wireless vortex sucking out your human soul
Blahdebleebleeblahblahblottyblottyblah
I was right there besides you
You were suppose to discover me
Our eyes were suppose to meet
We were suppose to talk about ourselves, in person
Exchange the numbers to our landlines
Date
Fall in love
Marry
Have children
Or at least become good friends
Or at the very least have a moment, maybe one lousy fucking second
During which we acknowledge each other's existence
But no
Instead you were blabbering into your cell phone
And though I was hearing you
I was not even here to you
So I changed my mind
Because I'm getting a strong signal here
And it says pursuing you would be like asking to be an object
I'd be flipped open and you'd harp directions into my gut
You'd make me feel like my lithium ion is worth more than my mind
And when my battery goes dead I'd be useless to you
Traded in for the new model
Maybe a stiff black one so effortlessly disco
Until then you'll press my buttons, expect me to listen to your gossip
Dribble and spit all over me and force me to remember all your numbers
I won't be your cell phone, baby,
So don't think you can shove my manhood into your cigarette lighter
Or invite me onto the sticky bed of your dashboard
Because I don't like you or your cell phone
And I've already got enough hang-ups
Instructions On How To Dump A Nice Guy
So you realized you are not in love with him
Wait until he is most vulnerable before you leave him
Even if that takes several years
The good news is he's a nice guy
So he won't put up much of a fight
Sabotage his every effort to please you
Contradict everything he believes in
Play mind games on him until he is dysfunctional
Until he is mad with confusion but still loves you
Better that he is weak and useless
There will be fewer struggles when you become cocky
Like a beaten puppy he'll escort you to the airport
Whimpering when it is time for you to screw him
There can be no mercy when it comes to your freedom
Dump him as if he is nothing but a tapeworm
But first you must turn his brain into silly mush
Refuse to take a shower before sitting on his face
Then tell him he's a selfish lover
Cheat on him while he's doing charity work
Call the cops on him when he's in need of medical care
Tell internal affairs what a jerk he is
Borrow money for a lawyer but refuse to testify
Get drunk when he stops drinking for you
Do not by any means acknowledge that he has repented
Tell him it's because he couldn't bag groceries
Take my advice and slowly chip away at his self-esteem
Declare to him that it is a class thing
Tell him it's because he didn't file for bankruptcy
Tell him that it has to do with differences of height
That your parts don't fit together right
Tell him to go see a psychiatrist
Demand that he go see the Cabrini Green pathologist
Tell him you don't like his attitude toward professionals
Hint that he's not the benefactor of your insurance
Make him wonder why that subject was brought up
Rob him of hope without directly saying it
Piss all over him and then tell him it's raining
Tell him it's his fault for not having an umbrella
Tell your mother it's just more of the same when he's weeping
Tell your cat daddy's only boss for a few more days
When you are laughing on the phone while his heart is breaking
Make sure there are no blunt objects in the room
Even nice guys can snap from time to time
Tell him you don't think his dreams are important
Take off your nipple ring and demand a middle class life
Fraternize with those who are out to get him
Remark about it in encrypted innuendos
If he knows what you're doing call him paranoid
When he wonders about your motives call him a conspiracy theorist
Invite his friends to sleep on your new floor
But don't extend that invitation to him
If he doesn't host your party invite his enemy to do so
Videotape the entire thing with his camera
Make love to him then say he raped you
Inquire about the whereabouts of the sex tapes
Read to him about a man fucked to death by a horse
Tell him you feel like his mother
Tell him his housework was creepy
When he inquires if he'll ever talk to you again
Ask him if it is okay if you don't want to
Do you see how that works
You're cutting him down but asking his permission to do so
Ask him how you would look with a tattoo on your lower back
If he doesn't respond with the words trailer trash
You have him by the hairy balls
You can now do whatever you want to him
Sing songs of liberation as if he is your jailer
Blame him for your own appearance on TV
Go to the water park and criticize the fake palm trees
Tell him he should have played with your asshole more often
Get him to call you a cunt by acting like a cunt
Question whether or not he can handle it
Make him help you move out of there
And then thank him by spending the night somewhere else
Of course it's his fault because he called you a cunt
Hurt him so badly that he wants to kill himself
And then say I told you to see a psychiatrist
Tell him how worried you are as you stick the knife in
Pop three different pills and smoke some pot and call him an alcoholic
Only get wet for him after telling him you are leaving him
Kiss him passionately to show him what he'll be missing
That'll screw his brain up I guarantee
Tell him his pain is biologically impossible
Blame him for the weight you put on over and over
Use Buddhism as a justification for divorcing him
Whatever you do don't tell him the truth
Tell him half-truths that make his hair stand on end
Make him think that you are afraid of him
That way he will blame himself for your lies
He will be forever tormented in a cloud of mystery
He will believe that he is a bad human being
Act so cold he'll think you were hypnotized
Put the cheapest dollar amount on your betrayal that you can muster
If he accepts your offer, you are free to torture him some more
Tell him you're sorry that his family is so strange
Make cruel remarks about his childhood
You can take cheap shots now that he's a middle-aged lobotomy
Make him pay the price once again in his life
Tell him he's invited to go live with your dad
Deny that you have the problem
Never ever tell him what happened to you
Never ever tell him why you are the way you are
Give him a book of Bukowski instead
The book of new poems published ten years after the author's death
Say let's be friends
Get on a jet plane and don't call him until the end of September
And when you finally do, tell him you've been invited to a party
Make him feel guilty for hanging up on you
Write him an email and admit that you were never in love with him
Ask for his forgiveness
And then never speak to him again
Wicker Heart
What has happened to my wicker heart
It's not the same as it used to be
Years ago it was so dangerous
It played by no one's rules indeed
But you knew you could always trust it
Knew it would be there in your time of need
You stood outside in the darkness
Looking through its murky window
It was seedy but ever so real
Inside its brightly lit interior
You saw familiar faces waving you in
A dozen free newspapers piled by the pulmonary
You nursed your warm drink for hours in my chest
And nobody cleared a throat loudly
Nobody charged you a corkage fee
There was a nitty gritty ambience
Without the eye splitting glow of laptop screens
Artwork hung from the arteries
And the beat was steady, amplified by the scene
But today an intrusive cardiac catheterization
Reveals it to be quite the chic thing
Smelling of Lysol with its circulation taxed
Gray transparent couples can be seen in the x-ray
Afraid to speak up and absent of personality
Sitting upright at their tables the size of wafers
They have paid more for their glasses of blood
Than I have for everything in my stomach this week
They won't turn to acknowledge you're out there
Not that you'd want to join their party of sleep
They are frozen in their jail with gold bars
Sometimes this pump is called an Asian restaurant
Not Chinese Japanese Korean or Thai
Just Asian African or European
My has my heart been sterilized
Robbed of its culture excitement and architecture
Its history white washed, its armpit shaved
The nostalgia of its longing has been torn away
The cavern it sits in worth more than the structure
The ventricles go for half a million these days
After the developers perform a triple bypass
Install a fancy pace maker and rename it Buck
Now the valves only open for a button on a dashboard
The love that once ached like a black hole
Has been replaced by cinder blocks and designer rails
Believe me the coyote has stopped howling in there
The superior vena cava never crosses paths with the inferior
Under my nipples yuppies swarm like fire ants
Where do they come from, these wealthy invaders
They are not children of the Haymarket
They are not offspring of my tricuspid workers
Nor brothers of my mitral police
They just want to stamp out my memories of loss
But don't mind urinating in my septum
After a long night lung hopping and wasting their cash
Wallpaper my auricles with their hundred dollar bills
There was once anarchy amongst the white blood cells
They set up shop in my aorta and held free classes
They raised enough hell I thought I'd have a stroke
Plastered flyers all over my veins
Lump in my throat and lump in my brain
But in the end it all became pointless
They gave up on my fist-sized muscle
Finally had to admit that it was a lost cause
Packed up and moved to my urethra
Where they discovered a system with more balls
A canal filled with lampreys, closer to my socks
There is no room for poetry in my heart anymore
The only colors are found at American Apparel
Sammy's nightly stabbing has become Cafe Absinthe
The complex guilt shoved to the side and fictionalized
The words were once heard from my ribs on Tuesday night
Do you remember when you fought the blockage
Huddled in the hot house when they tried to trim the weeds
Those days were filled with so much cardiology
Those were the days when you were inside of me
Before abnormal rhythms and congestive failure
You called me home and my chocolates were assorted
Oh won't you set my wicker heart free
Paybacks Are A Bitch
Revenge is a hoot
It takes quite a bit of determination
It takes a lot of organization
Planning and foresight
But it is most fulfilling
Especially if you pull it off
Never let anyone get away with anything
If some jerk cuts in front of you
Don't pull up beside him and whip him the finger
That's not revenge
I bet he gets that finger five times a day
It won't even faze him
You might as well be waving an asparagus spear
Instead act like you didn't even notice
And then follow him from a distance
If he lives in the city most likely he'll park on the street
Wait until he's inside and his light goes dim
Then walk up to his Mazda with the key to your mailbox
Scratch scumwad asshole prick across the entire driver's side
Squirt superglue into all the silver slots
Pour your can of Sprite into his gas tank
Miles Thirst says show him your motto
Waiting in your car at the end of the block is optional
When the sun comes up you can watch him stop, drop his jaw
He'll look around stupidly but you'll be hunched low
That'll teach him not to cut you off
If he has a garage that's another story
You might consider buying some spray paint from Menards
Some honey with a plastic basket at the Jewel food store
Takes the best avocado out of the pile
You wanted that one for your guacamole
All the others are either too soft or too hard
Don't cause a scene, be a gentleman
Tip your hat and say afternoon ma'am
Wait in line behind her and peek at her preferred card
Go online to find her address if you can
There are many ways to break and enter
If I explain them I'll incriminate my ass
Sneak inside when she's out with her boyfriend
Put Icy Hot in her tube of toothpaste
Put Nair in her bottle of shampoo
Put a pregnant cockroach in her cabinet
If she owns a dildo you know what to do
When the phone rings avoid the temptation
To answer it and to say that she's busy
Can't talk, got something of yours in her mouth
Take your avocado out of her refrigerator
And enjoy its meat right down to the pit
Replace it with the brown one you had to purchase
That's what she gets for taking your shit
Let's say someone sneezes on you in a bar
You think it's butter but it's snot
Nod and take it as if you are the bigger man
You might even want to say bless you or gazoontite
Sit with him and pretend he's your buddy
Buy him a drink; listen to his sob stories
Slip him a mickey and take him for a ride
There are several options on north Lincoln at your disposal
Make sure you use his ID when you register
Plop him on the bed that has crack holes burned into it
Toss some porno magazines onto his chest
It'll cost you a few dollars but it is totally worth it
Spill a bag of heroin all over the desk
Now go to a pay phone and report the disturbance
Some poor woman screaming at the top of her lungs
Coming from Room 211 at the Patio Motel
Better break down the door it seems quite urgent
That'll teach that bastard to buy a hanky
And aim away from you when it comes time to blow
Don't you see they are all out to get you
They are all plotting to take you down
They think they are wise because you can't prove it
Well what do you need proof for after all
It is safe to say that if you deal with each of them
Target anyone who is even likely to be involved
The guilty party will be among them
Better get them before you take the fall
The scale of the conspiracy against you is baffling
So you're rebuttal must be just as profound
Get out the blueprints
Experiment with a bullhorn
Buy a decent gas mask
From the Navy surplus store
Learn about wiring
Memorize all the numbers
Practice staircase running
Crawl between ceiling and floor
Time it with a stopwatch
Be a disguise master
You'll need an intimate knowledge
Of how the demon dances
Perform a dress rehearsal
Involve unwitting partners
Phone in misinformation
And then listen to them mourn
Okay
I admit it
There is a better way to deal with this
And it will keep you out of prison
It's not quite as evil
But this is how it works
Take a good look at yourself in the mirror
Especially in times of anger
You are as batty as a belfry
You are one fucking paranoid hate bag
If you can admit it, you will need to do none of the above
You will learn how to laugh at yourself instead
And use your imagination as your weapon
The only action you have taken is a rant
You can now deal with matters of the heart with your art
Apply for a government grant
What An Asshole
It's a big-lipped nosey midget
With a hollow core door for a voice
It's a bald headed centipede
Delivering its pile of words
It's a forty thousand dollar education
With the keys left in the ignition
It's a father who hides in an igloo
Rather than turn the ice to water
It's an Oklahoma Cutthroat Finch
Posting insults under a pseudonym
It's a gold ring never purchased
Left under the bulletproof glass
It's a crony on his big bench
Smiling the crack of death
It's a burglar asleep in church
Who never returns with the goods
It's a tortoise without a shell
With a thick New England accent
It's an angel in a tuxedo
Who never heard of inflation
It's a jarred pickled pig's foot
That teaches how to hate
It's a series of ones and zeros
That disappears with all the templates
It's a university dentist
Who demands a cashier's check
It's an inconspicuous nerd
Accepting the signature on morphine
It's a pockmarked plaster cast
Smashing windows and slashing tires
It's a gay cyber lover
Who disappears with all the cash
Its two hydraulic pistons
Crushing the world into a small block
It's a role model on formaldehyde
Sitting on the balloon until it pops
It's the master and commander
Wielding his mighty mop
It's the mother of a monkey
Selling paint to kids on the corner
It's a vowel among the consonants
With archival paper in its ears
It's a Catholic civil servant
Worshipping a number two pencil
It's an immigrant's eyebrow
Shaking bone chips from the tarp
It's a fish head on newsprint
Asking favors from the blood
It's a set of yellow teeth
Soliciting the painted flesh
It's a scratched vinyl record
Its cover floating in the wake
It's a plastic doll's head
That doesn't forgive and doesn't forget
The Bipolar Express
There are times
When I can't muster the courage
To put my socks on
So don't talk to me about starting a career
Don't offer me a settlement
For my damned Best Buy card
I am certainly not a candidate for your low interest rate
In the long run I'm the opposite end of the magnet
Normality is spoken like a foreign word
There is something electrical lingering in remission
I don't have the reigns on that horse
I'm trying to avoid it like the avian plague
Every automated dialer attracted to my phone
Malfunctioning once it is wired to my ear
A series of beeps, silence or static
It all boils down to a sick symbolic script
It's during those moments when my euphoria crashes
My hope is a cue ball dropping to my knees
Things get zapped
Files get corrupted
Lives are ruined
Fires are combusted
Everything I love disintegrates at my touch
And once again I am lonely and abused
I was out in the storm
In nothing but my bathrobe
Never felt more alive than among the lightning
Nothing more inspiring than when things go boom
I want to hang on to it like a jingling chain
If only I could ride this wave without it rolling
I would float up and everyone would point
At the salesman with the haircut and the thick briefcase
Sitting in a stranger's living room with his bag of tricks
Confidence singing with strategy and closing
I once told this realm to pay me, it obeyed
But now the spirit harnessed is far and few
Cut down from months to days, hours, now minutes
So it's back to the four walls to snot up another towel
Cursing at god and praying to be an atheist
Blaming everyone who couldn't stomach it
How dare they escape the wrath of my curse
Shoving the half pint into my liver
So that I can wake at four a.m. with it in my intestines
Like so much sand and so many worms
My cause and effect all scrambled and peppered
The wee hours not allowing me to lie
To suppress what happened when I was seventeen
Twenty-three years ago when I felt the same way
And the TV blew out in front of my face
Everything I feel good about falls victim
From a mangled ghost to a stiff dead dog
In my wake the places I've been vanish
Feral will power versus Romanian witches
With constant urination and a nasty toothache
There are times when a footstep terrorizes me
So how can you expect me to follow up on a lead
Plan for the future or keep my promises
The floor below my feet drops for the hangman
Every stimulus in my body working overtime
Switching gears
Until the microscopic sparks have a chain reaction
Something in the grand scheme of things clicks
Your pillowcase of candy gets swiped from your grip
You're walking bow legged to blow out the candles
The memory is energy and you have to release it
With a ping and a flash the filament blows
Pour hot water on ice and listen to it crack
That fault is not confined to its eggshell skull
When the emotions start rumbling everyone is in danger
To fill the gaping hole in my heart a hurricane must form
Do not take offense if I can't watch the penguins
Now it is time to embrace the void
Hoping that if nothing happens, nothing will happen
How vain we are to think we're in control
Metrophobia
Daddy gives some ice cream
Daddy says it's all right
Daddy has a phone book
Daddy's glad the grip's tight
Daddy beats you for nothing
Daddy works until midnight
Daddy doesn't want to wipe you
Daddy and Mommy fight
Daddy he plays Santa
Daddy says go to bed
Daddy invites the neighbors
Daddy's sick in his head
Daddy shows some pictures
Daddy takes you to the pool
Daddy plays some movies
Daddy says you know what to do
Daddy has a disco record
Daddy where's the Easter basket
Daddy goes to the Spectrum
Daddy asks can you handle it
Daddy moves into a trailer
Daddy keeps a lot of secrets
Daddy has to confess it
Daddy thinks you don't believe it
Daddy brings home strangers
Daddy black eyed out cold
Daddy puts you in danger
Daddy's getting old
Daddy runs so far away
Daddy not so fast
Daddy had a big dick
Daddy's dead at last
Fuck The Truth
Hi there
Now that I have your attention
Allow me to point out that I am single
And available
They say the best way to start a relationship
Is with the truth
But
You can see what happens when I tell the truth
Just look at the poetry that I've written
When I start telling the truth
Blood starts splattering and bones start breaking
And next thing
You don't know whether to laugh or cry
I'm sure my truths have made you feel something
But turned on—well, that probably doesn't describe it
So allow me to take a different approach
Fuck the truth
That's right, I said fuck the truth
Forget everything that I have written so far
And allow me to begin this relationship
As honestly as I know how
With the admission
That all the promises I'm about to make
Are big fat ass motherfucking lies
I promise to act my age
I promise to get a job
I promise to take care of my health
I promise to stop using Shake 'n Bake
I swear on a stack of Bibles
I won't sit around all day
In nothing but my housecoat
Surfing internet porn on dogpile
And scratching my smelly balls
While you slave at work
To pay all the bills
And then bitch at you
When you buy a new pair of boots
I will not by any means smoke up all your pot
And then argue irrationally
With the teenage girl
Behind the counter at McDonalds
About how many hot mustards
I should get with my McNuggets
Or exit out the front door
Shouting fuck all you cocksuckers
False advertising! False advertising!
I promise I will not masturbate
Wipe myself clean with your shirt
And then toss it on the floor for you to pick up
I will not get drunk at an art gallery
Lose my mind completely
Attack you with the rear view mirror
Argue with the police
Kick out the window of their squad car
Get sent to the hospital
And while I am writhing in pain
Strapped down with restraints
Blame you for letting me drive
Won't blame you that I'm still alive
Won't blame you for the voices in my head
Under no circumstances
Will I blow a sexy man
Just to be clear
And so that there are no misunderstandings
In these important, early days of our relationship
When I say the word "blow"
I'm specifically referring to putting a penis
Between these lips that you will kiss
Sucking on it, licking it
Making suction cup noises
Until this totally hypothetical sexy man groans
That is what will never happen
I want to make that crystal clear
I will be a good father
I will be a good husband
I have complete respect for authority
I will not force you to see all the Kung Fu movies
I will not blubber through Bridges of Madison County
I will listen to you read
Never will I be compulsive
The unsuspecting words of a local poet
Won't offend me so much
That I launch a full-scale nuclear poetry war
From your computer nonetheless
And then use your email account
To send phony email messages terrorizing the victim
I will take life seriously
I will not invent cartoon enemies just for the fun of it
I will join the real world
I will go to all your friends' social gatherings
I will not threaten to kick the teeth out of my own friends
In a Puerto Rican restaurant
I will not accuse you of sleeping with every man you know
I will pursue a career that will enable us
To fulfill all our dreams together
I will not eat garlic olives and then try to French you
I will not lay the guilt trip on
When you won't let me lick your ass
I will not fall asleep the moment after I cum
But if I do I promise not to snore
I will not fantasize that you are Gilligan's Mary Ann
I will not strut around like the king of the poetry world
Even though you know I am
There will be peace and quiet in our household
No artwork will get smashed
I will not hold conversations with wrong numbers
I will not hit on phone solicitors
I will not tell the bill collectors to go fuck themselves
I won't shout curse words at my customers
I won't holler kiss my ass at the gangbangers
I will develop close relationships with others of my own age
Invite them over
Go out with them once in a while
In other words I'll have friends
I will never scratch my asshole
Then make you smell my fingers
I realize that is not funny
I promise to pay all my taxes
I promise to clean up all my bad credit
Never will you have to come home
To find the license plate off the car and on the desk
I will not make the cat hiss
I won't pee in the shower
I know how much that would bother you
And we have to get along
When we go to see your folks
I'll pay for my own ticket
And I will always have some money
Buy the dinner for a change
Say no I insist
It's all on me
And even leave the tip
I will not be morbid
I will not believe all my nightmares are going to come true
I will not walk around in a constant state of deja vu
I will listen when you have something to say
I will remember your birthday
I will remember our anniversary
I will remember your phone number at work
I will never shout at you
I will read books
At least a few besides The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich
I will have conversations
I will love you the same no matter what you do to your hair
Never ever will I accuse you of cursing me
Or jinxing me
Or getting in my way
You won't have to lend me money
So that I can buy you a Chanukah present
I'm assuming that you're Jewish
I won't commandeer your ATM card
And spend it all renting Playstation games
I give you my word
I am not in constant search of a 23 year old
Who looks like an 18 tear old
And acts like a 13 year old
I know that describes you
And all of those before you
But that's just coincidence
You are all quite mature
I won't make you dress up like Velma from Scooby Doo
Make you take everything off except your glasses and your shoes
That has never happened and it never will
I promise never to try to get you to smoke cocaine
I promise never to get you to drop acid
That looks like a purple contact lens
But if you do
I promise not to complain
When it takes you eight hours to peak
I will not steal all your father's oxycodone
I will not pocket handfuls of Merlin's Darvon
Take them in ridiculous numbers
Until I'm nodding and by all rights dead
I promise my family is normal
We have calm, loving get-togethers
Where we all hug and talk intelligently
Play Uno without arguing
They even eat with a knife and a fork
And my stepfather is not a racist
I promise I'm completely normal
I promise it will be completely typical
I promise not to be cynical
But most of all I give you my solemn word
And may an earthquake strike San Francisco if this is not true
That if you ever leave me
For some gross little man
Without a truthful bone in his body
I will not write poetry about you
Honestly
All these things I promise to you
Do you see what a perfect partner I'd make
So come and be my lover
Let's begin this passionate romance
The right way
Fuck the goddamn truth
3
JESUS CHRIST CHICAGO
Lint
Since I started drinking playful
My belly has grown like a Coco de mer
And within the confines of my navel
I have acquired impressive amounts of fur
The odd thing is it doesn't match
The color of the day's duds
I hook my finger and I scratch
Roll out tumbleweeds of fuzz
Like scraping seeds out of honeydew
My middle finger finds something red
Two times a day it is filled anew
Like an Afro on top of Alan Keyes' head
My curious mouth sucks the foreign object
Like cotton candy that won't melt
An acetate carpet taste test subject
Can't quite swallow the cobweb of felt
A dingle ball like a caterpillar
On my upper lip I'd be a flirt
Can I sell this by the gram to a killer
This residue from my moth eaten shirt
Is it possible my stomach is on a roll
To dry a wardrobe of her wet clothes
Is that why there's a quarter in my soul
And the exhaust is blowing out my holes
I woke to find two pebbles in my button
But then I found them to be eggs
When I tried to sell them to Seattle Sutton
A bee hummingbird attacked my legs
Since I have lost my longtime wife
I have decided to let the dust pile
Within those particles can be found life
Mites and fairyflies are not so vile
I am going to keep on drinking playful
So that my tummy becomes a great bed
There will be pieces of everything in my navel
Where you can lay your head
When My Name Is Christ Jesus
Boy will I turn water into wine
I'll go to the cafe and order from the free tap
Snap my finger and it will be Château Julien
Zinfandel will spout from Buckingham Fountain
And it will certainly rain Bordeaux
If the authorities try to say I'm a bootlegger
I'll stand at the corner of Pulaski and 23rd
Shout Dee-sciples! Dee-sciples!
Twelve of my homies will come to join me
We'll all have supper at the Signature Room
Dished out in gold chains and leather coats
Toast our crystal glasses filled with LaCroix
But I'll say Whoa! Whoa! wait just a minute
This Judas dude he's going to betray me
Sell me out for a handful of gold
And rattatattat he'll be gunned down flat
Left there on his back to be eaten by rats
Like I'm going to let this sucker stab me in the back
Yeah right forget that crap
His story will be buried on page twenty-four
Because the front page will be dedicated to truly yours
It will say the Messiah reads his poetry
To a sold out crowd at the United Center
And I'll walk on the water as if it is cement
I'll wave a stick and a gnarly wave will form
Right there in Lake Michigan
I'll surf it without a board
Stand on my hands in the green room
Skip to the Loo and land on North Avenue Beach
With a spray of sand into the faces of the unbelievers
Squeeze the Cabernet Sauvignon from my beard
Pick out the finest bikini beach bunny
Go to Navy Pier and speak in tongues
When I see the cops busting a hooker on Cicero
I'll walk right up to them and say
Hey! what do you think you're doing
You think she LIKES selling her goods
You think this is some kind of glamorous life
She's probably trying to feed others in her hood
Or support that habit Uncle Sam slung onto her
You want to see a miracle
How 'bout I make Daley fight unemployment
How 'bout I give this woman something to believe in
How 'bout I stop all the yuppies from invading
Tearing down the architecture to build their lousy condos
Kicking out this city's ancestors
Who can no longer pay the hike in taxes
You better make sure your soul is spotless
Before you cast the first stone
I'll say come on sugar I'll help you clean up
Then I'm making you CEO of Enron
Since you have so much experience in that field
I know you'll do just fine
And if the cops try to stop me
Try to shoot me down with their guns
I'll call Dee-sciples! Dee-sciples!
And they'll all be converted
Filled with the spirit
Get on their knees and beg for forgiveness
Toss their badges to my feet
Kiss the ground and confess their sins
This one took the drugs from the trunk of a suspect
Put it back on the street to buy his Cadillac
That one beat the hell out of a high school student
Claimed it was an act of self defense
The guy in white he lied under oath
Stuck up for his pals
Encouraged gang mentality
But I will understand that no one is perfect
I will declare
You are all forgiven
Now go and serve
Now go and protect
Then I'll go to Joliet
I'll flip over the gambling boat
The organized crime ripping everyone off
Not legal to have a game of poker
Among friends in your very own parlor
But it's okay for them to plop it on the Des Plaines
Wait until Friday and take all the paychecks
I'll go to Aurora too
Flip that one over
All the money will float down the Fox
A muddy trench filled with Mad Dog 20/20
And if they send the feds with an army
With bazookas and smart bombs
In order to stop me
I'll holler Dee-sciples! Dee-sciples!
And my team of superheroes will arrive
Like streaks of lightning in the sky
In spandex and capes and velvet masks
Laser beams will shoot from their ass
Vaporize the cannons and melt the tanks
I'm the Son of God
What you gonna do 'bout it, I'll ask
I'll cure a blind man and then I'll say
Dude! you owe me big time
You're doing my laundry for an entire month
Once a week I'll reserve a day
To put lost ears back in place
I'll flip them like pancakes
Slap them back onto the sides of faces
They'll all line up
They'll have to take a number
As I rip tumors out of chests
Give hearing to the deaf
And save every rotten mother's son's core
And when it is time for them to come and get me
I won't pussy foot around
I'll be like you ain't nailing me to that thing
Uh-uh, no way
I'm not leaving my people in a state of confusion
They'll all be constantly wondering
Did he die or did he rise from the dead
Looking in some ancient book for an answer
That ain't fair what the heck
No, sir, that ain't my style
I think I'll keep it plain and simple
I think I'll stick around for a while
Being a savior means doing some saving
Not hiding in the chants of a dusty old church
Not being the figment of a collective imagination
Or being a different man to every single sect
Unsure what the color of my skin is
Reduced to some image on the headlights of a car
A comic book character of a vanity plate
Found in the urine stains of a viaduct
My pain endured to increase Mel Gibson's fame
Forget it, don't even think about it
I'm keeping it real because I'm not done yet
What good can I do
Six feet in the ground
Turned to porcelain
So take your cross and get the hell out of here
Before I shove it up your apocalypse
And turn Pontius Pilot into an astronaut
This is the way it is going to be
Nobody will ever have to pray to me
Because I'll be right here
I'll be like anytime you need me
Just shout the word superstar
You won't have to wonder if you will be answered
The Lord doesn't work in strange ways
There won't be anything mysterious about it
Because I'll appear
Poof
Right there
In front of your face
How can I help you
This better be important
But if you're wasting my valuable time
I'll plague you with testicular boils
Or turn you into a dung-eating bush fly
Oh! a tsunami is heading toward Indonesia
No problem bro I'll go protect my people
Thanks for telling me
Be cool and stay warm
And if some wise guy tries to entrap me
Shouting superstar with his thugs around the corner
Waiting to whack me on the back of my head
I'll croon Dee-sciples! Dee-sciples!
And then I'll do a dance just like Gene Kelly
I'll swing from the light pole in a downpour of Merlot
Cock my head and sing like a nightingale
Follow me and you'll be reborn
Oh silly mortal
Let me save your soul
Chi-Town 575
unpainted mandrill
wind whisking between thin ribs
steel guards the city
can you dig it
fire hydrant butt rest
friends peck seeds from open palm
sign says do not feed
can you dig it
distant high pitch scream
shriek of heroic riders
truck thirty-eight roars
can you dig it
stacked black dominos
white antelope horns pierce night
rows of flickering
can you dig it
forty ounce bottle
cops on lawn chairs watching sports
cash register rings
can you dig it
lonely bean reflects
big space absent of people
winter in the park
can you dig it
blues from a tight string
sequins flash in spotlight dance
stretched out on the lawn
can you dig it
walk to tourist pier
stench of old cardboard blanket
cold dark cement bed
can you dig it
rubber ball on rope
flung over edge of beach
dog gives water chase
can you dig it
sitting near the curb
menus like tablets of stone
two girls order quiche
can you dig it
box with wheels and bells
corn on the cob and mango
red chili pepper
can you dig it
poet shouts out haiku
rumble of train drowns out words
welcome to chi-town
can yooooooooooooooooo dig it
Stapler
Don't worry
Everything is going to be okay
Because I have my stapler
I can slip in the edges of my heart
Seal up the hole with the slap of my palm
Thirty-three staples and we're friends once again
No matter how life tears me to shreds
My U shaped wire will crunch around it
Close its arms and hug it tightly
Even if I find it all to be deceit
And my entire world comes undone
Some merciless reality ripping through
The fabric of my time falling to the ground
My driving blade will push the nail in
With a squeeze I'll make the needed repairs
Tack it back together as if with a gun
Spring loaded and ready to heal the wound
Fold the pages over and call it a book
I will staple shiny red wrapping paper
Over the zombie black bags
Permanently seal the ducts shut
So that the flood will remain behind the dike
Pin the sides of my mouth to my cheekbones
Like the surface of a dogfish shark's gill
Hopefully it will be contagious
When you see my frozen face
The comic victim of a sub-zero wind
I will staple your love to my hand
So that I will never drop it again
But I don't know if I can
It is so fragile like celluloid
It clearly wants to be in a million pieces
I will staple your life to mine
So that no matter how far you run
We will still be connected
I will take that spirit I feel once a year
And I will staple it to you
So that you can feel it all year round
I will staple summer onto the wind chill factor
So that you'll think about where home is found
I will staple some reason into the master
Staple his zipper shut
Staple your delusions about me onto his actions
So that you will see that they are one in the same
I will staple all the memories you are avoiding
To billboards in Palo Alto
On the sides of the Marguerite
And I will staple one year on top of the next
So that you can grow up faster
I will wait until spring
Then staple all the bad vibes
One by one to the leaves of the trees
So that they can first absorb the sun
And then fall from their branches
To be raked up and burned
I will take all your fears
Staple them to the inside of a time capsule
Program it to open only after we die
And when it looks hopeless
The times during which lesser men would be crushed
I'll sign the electronic clipboard
Accept a case of fifty thousand staples
Then I'll really go to work
Lap Dance
Once upon a time
I pulled out my wallet
Put twenty dollars worth of gas into my Cavalier
And I drove to Nashville
Found myself lonely on Russell Street
Maybe I thought Johnny Cash would be there
Open the gates to Bicentennial Park
Or maybe I thought I'd see the ghost of Elvis
Women in petticoats or even horses
I should have gone with another human
Instead of with my faithful Golden Bukowski
Who was waiting for me back at the Comfort Inn
Because there I was without a damned thing to do
Not a cowboy in sight or a rock-a-billy musician
Instead something was going on at the Coliseum
Swarms of college kids were running and screaming
Wild and peppy in drunken droves
Shouting and raising all sorts of hell
If this was the dimple of the universe
Why did I feel like I was in the Lincoln Park Zoo
The homeless guy collecting quarters at the corner
Seemed to be the only native resident to be found
I pulled out my wallet and gave him twenty dollars
To show me where the good times go down
So this street wise man dressed in rags
Walked with me to another part of town
Satisfaction or my money back
He would show me the best titty bar around
Le Bijou on Demonbreun
I had never been to such a place
But I needed a better story to tell
About my spontaneous trip to Music City U.S.A.
Than the Titans won some great victory
And he seemed to be good enough company
Seemed more reliable
Than most who called themselves my friends
So I invited him under the long awning
Down the red carpet
Pulled out my wallet and paid another twenty
And we both went in
We sat at a table with Dixie cups of ice
All the girls were deep dark black and nice
Probably not a one over nineteen
And sure enough they were moseying around
With all their little breasts to be seen
Wearing panties as thin as draw strings
One by one they took to the stage
To bend over and show what was between their legs
According to my new found friend
If I liked what I saw
I could give the man at the counter twenty bucks
Go into the back room with one of the girls
Sit in a chair
She would prop her knees up on the arms
And she would put her naked mound inches from my face
Her thin black fingers would reach back
She'd spread herself open
And as long as I didn't touch
I could sit there and look at it
For about five minutes
All close up
I had never done anything like that before
And I felt like being a bad boy
I drove all the way to Nashville after all
Had to do something crazy and wild
So I mustered the guts and picked one out
From a selection of seven who stood in a row
My girl had a flat chest with nipples like black olives
With a nice round behind tattooed with a rose
I pulled out my wallet and gave my twenty dollars
To the bald headed man behind the counter
And Bluto poked his zucchini fingers through the hanging beads
Opened a passage and let me and Rosecheek through
There were several other dudes situated like chess pieces
All of them looking into some stranger's womanhood
Tilting their heads and focusing their eyes
As if puzzled by a mirror that had no reflection
I expected one of them to reach out and grab a knob
Adjust the antenna for a clearer picture
I was instructed to sit on a dirty old couch
All stained and worn with its stuffing pouring out
Like someone's discarded living room piece
Picked up in the alley by the salvage truck
Between two customers and across from three others
As Bluto stood at a distance silently yawning
Making sure none of us touched
My skinny Rosecheek did exactly as expected
She climbed up and hovered over me like a fleshy praying mantis
Stuck out her naked butt like a big boxing glove
Her thin black fingers reached on back
And she spread her canvas open like Georgia O'Keefe
Right there, inches from my beak
I guess it looked about normal
Thin and pink and surprisingly well trimmed
Other than that I really couldn't tell you
Because after ten seconds the joke was on me
I peered below it and between her legs
Wondering why the others were so obsessed
Their eyes were glued and their mouths hung open
The necks of their shirts soaked with drool
What was I missing
Half the population has one of these
I must have left my libido in Chicago
Couldn't wait to see the Cedars of the Lebanese
I glanced at my watch as the seconds ticked
Bluto cleared the phlegm from his throat like a minor earthquake
It dawned upon me that I was probably being rude
So I surrendered and I gave it a good look
Sat there and observed it
Studied it and accepted it
For five of the longest minutes in the world
As it quivered with the blood that pumped through it
A galaxy from a foreign universe
Mysterious and sacred and undefined
And when my time was finally over
I felt like cracking a sick joke
Your future looks so bright
You should be wearing Ray-Bans
Something really shitty like that
Nearly spilled its way out of my mouth
But as Rosecheek climbed off my lap
She looked like Halle Berry accepting her Oscar
Though I doubt it was joy that was making her sad
I've been around the block a few times
To knew what was up with her dark eyes
She wasn't getting any of the profit
A man behind a counter was taking that shit
Making her work for nothing but tips
So I bit my lip
Was very polite
I said thank you
That was very nice
And I pulled out my wallet and gave her twenty dollars
And in return she gave me a big smile
Her teeth were the pedals of gardenias
Her cheeks were two purple plums
And her eyebrows were the wings of a black-necked stilt
Gliding through the sky
Into the sun
Dirt
Within the smog I turned invisible
Covered with the filth of your lies
How convenient it was for your friends
As they celebrated your newfound balls
They smiled through the unseen pollution
The grime you took the Brillo pad to
It would have been like wishing the mud well
To have cared what I was going to do
So they helped you scrape me off your shoe
Vacuumed me up like cat fur
And I hid in a clump in a bag for you
Watched passively how ecstatic you were
As you rinsed me off your skin
Just soil collected on a brush
Little did I know how mucky I was
Merely something for you to flush
Just fingerprints on a refrigerator
Just some egg yolk among the rust
Scum on the tub, mold on the curtain
The orange wax blocking the truth
You smeared me onto a Q-tip
Sprayed me from your foot
I went whirl pooling down the drain
Looked up at the bright white dots
Struggled through the hairs in vain
Boiled in a Drano pot
You placed your lips to the opening
And whispered you really look hot
The month of August is under my fingernails
The stench of your laughter still in my clothes
Between my teeth the ashes of cremation
For a useless stain that's how it goes
You left me with five years of grease
A birthday caking in my eyes
Had so much fun blowing out the candle
Even though this piece of dirt was alive
Christmas Reunion
Scrooge has a dream on December twenty-four
Haunted by the Spirit of yet to come
Melancholy though filled with great joy
Bing Crosby singing in the background
It starts with a miracle on Thirty-fourth Street
Susan Walker is now old and gray
Still living in the house, Kris Kringle's treat
Her spunky grandchildren don't believe in the sleigh
So she digs up court records from nineteen-forty-seven
While George Bailey faces his fate
Greedy banker Junior Potter and his eleven
Are on the jury trying to control his estate
The tension mounts in a heated court battle
Is it senile to believe in things like this
Your Honor, he claims to be visited by an angel
During which he was never born and didn't exist
To the rescue comes one of law's greatest aces
Kevin McCallister, a passionate gent
Who normally specializes in child abuse cases
And has a rather flamboyant closing argument
Involving a paint can swinging from a rope
Hot coals, nails, tar and feathers
Clarence, of course, looks on with hope
Still in his nightgown, aged and weathered
He's come to help save the day
Wasn't planning on a cosmic fist fight
But the handsome Dudley gets in his way
It has something to do with the Bishops' wife
A middle-aged man named Charlie Brown
Has simply had enough
He stages a sit-in at Shoppingtown
Preaches the real meaning of all this stuff
He receives a considerable amount of grief
From what cuss spitting Ralphie has to say
The dogs ate the turkey but he still believes
In a good old fashion two-fisted holiday
He plows through the pickets with his shopping cart
Stopped by none he makes his run
Past Circuit City to the Sport Mart
To get a BB gun for his son
And another John Doe is on the roof above
But suddenly hears the Bells of St. Mary
Turns around to find the woman he loves
Decides he wants to live instead of being buried
All these lost souls run into one another
In a grand climax at Macy's Parade
Where they are all saved by the bearded brother
And Ebenezer wakes, finds it's Christmas Day
C29300
One minute into the thirteenth of December
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Thirty-nine witnesses and seventeen reporters
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Behind thick glass only feet from the stage
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Barbara blows a kiss and pumps her fist
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Shackled at the wrists in a San Quentin chamber
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Black straps hold back the winces of pain
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Twelve-minute search for the Terminator
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Twenty-six years and they still can't find it
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Loaded surgical gloves preparing to aim
Can't find the vein! Can't find the vein!
Shotgun blast in the form of a padded gurney
Needle in the vein! Needle in the vein!
Torrent of words spits the death warrant
Needle in the vein! Needle in the vein!
Head falls limp and chest stops rising
Needle in the vein! Needle in the vein!
Through a hole in the door comes the white paper
Needle in the vein! Needle in the vein!
To verify the success of the act of murder
Needle in the vein! Needle in the vein!
Two thousand strong outside the prison gates
Needles in the vein! Needles in the vein!
Needles in the vein! Needles in the vein!
Ugly Day
Goodbye, New Orleans, goodbye
Salad bowl of jazzy beats and glittering beads
Turned to toilet bowl of raw sewage and contaminated grease
Displacement, place of national disgrace
Take to your roofs; the dark cloud is upon you
Now you know where freedom's priorities reside
Help is on the way, but not necessarily today
All tied up in oil lies, watch the prices rise
Superman's cape has been stripped inch by inch
By the caustic breath of your elected officials
Are you seeing red yet, through the red tape, Red state
When the levy breaks and only the rich survive
It's coming for you too, wherever you are
Coming like that dream you can't escape
Casting its shadow on your children
Too short to reach the rising surface
Death floating, bloated, how can we possibly smell it
When our nose is stuck deep in someone's butt overseas
The losers of the liberty-game are boiling in the stew
Goodbye, Mardi Gras, the ghetto blood is upon you
Dancing queen drag your way to the Astrodome
The parade is coming to the Southside in pickup trucks
Chased from 89th by gators and Lake Pontchartrain
Great Ugly Day, your tears deluge the living rooms
And the refugees are living on the overpass
Waving the shirts off their backs in utter despair
Fats Domino flying away in his black hawk copter
And they say the wicked season is only half over
Do not blame it on anything named Katrina
The evangelical Bozo saw it in the cards
Grabbed the remote and flicked on Jerry Springer
The pump maintenance more trouble than an exodus
The riff raff views the French Quarter from his window
It fogs up as he spouts his own torrent of righteousness
Arrest them; shoot them, the wild animals run rampant
Drown them in their attics, so we can gentrify
Strangle the Big Easy with speech-writers, buying a little time
Freak of mother flooder dealt with after he bagged the putter
Goodbye infrastructure your cowboy junky failed you
Flew over in his airplane and blew you a little kiss
Chalked up and knocked the sun into the corner pocket
Too late to pass a measure on the dry land of Congress
Should have would have could have--but didn't
Birth of a curse, Miss America's water just broke
The dark cloud of indifference is upon you, Louisiana
Don't feel bad it's nothing but a class thing
It was your choice after all to remain underprivileged
So you did not see the muted message on high priced TV
Why didn't you pray for a magic bus meant only for the deprived
Oh merciful God, why didn't you teach them how to swim
Hyatt Regency, open your doors to the forsaken
Who can't go home to their Popsicle sticks and Tonka Toys
Start another war, divert attention from our gore
Sound bytes trivialize overpriced plywood card houses
Do not dare speak the words global warming
Compare it to nine-eleven, that always works wonders
The ocean hijacked the Gulf Coast with a rotary saw
Turned up the oven and the people in the pot roasted
We would all empathize but we've forgotten how to cry
We'll have a rock concert instead, a week from Friday
But unfortunately by then you'll all be long gone
So goodbye, New Orleans,
goodbye,
goodbye,
goodbye
ABOUT AUTHOR
For the last two decades, the Publisher of ChicagoPoetry.com, C. J. Laity, has been a motivating force in Chicago's Poetry Scene, helping to shape it into what it is today.
Laity attended Columbia College from 1983 to 1987, where he studied poetry under Elaine Equi and fiction under Larry Heinneman. From 1991 until 1995 he served as an editor for the original Letter eX Poetry News Magazine.
Throughout the 1990s, and into the new millennium, Laity served as the Poetry Coordinator for the Bucktown Arts Fest, where he established what became known as "Chicago's Largest Poetry Reading." In 2002, Laity founded The Chicago Poetry Fest. In 2005, Laity appeared simultaneously on five major television networks (CBS, NBC, ABC, WGN and CNN) as a spokesperson for the Chicago Poetry Scene.
Laity is the sponsor of the annual Frieda Stein Fenster Memorial Award for Poetry. He is the author of the book License To Quill, and has had poetry published in After Hours Magazine (in which he was also a featured interviewee), Power Lines (Tia Chucha Press), Things That Go Bump In The Night ( Outrider Press ), Poetry For Peace (The Peace Museum) among many others.
Laity has been a featured poet for Around the Coyote, Poetry in the Branches (Chicago Public Library), Works of Art on CAN TV, WLUW Radio, WZRD Radio, The Peace Fest, The HotHouse 2004 Election Night Party, The Hyde Park Poetry Fest, The Unity Cafe in Oak Park.
Jim DeRogatis of the Chicago Sun-Times calls C. J. Laity "a major figure on the city's thriving poetry scene." The Chicago Tribune (August 26, 2005) called C. J. Laity "a fixture on the city's poetry scene".
*****
Some of the work in this book first appeared online at ChicagoPoetry.com.
Da Mayor Daley announced that he does not plan to seek another term, which means on February 22, 2011, Chicago will hold its first open Mayoral election since 1947. That's right. The seat is up for grabs and I intend to grab it as an independent candidate. I'm sure Jesse and Rahm or whoever will make worthy adversaries, but let's face it, they are politicians and there is enough dirt stuck to them to feed my front porch garden for another year, so it's time for a poet to take charge of this Windy City and I am one hundred percent serious.
--I will give that billion dollars back to the firm that quadrupled the cost of our parking meters and then I will allow all city residents to park for FREE. I'm not fooling around. You've earned it, Chicagoans.
--And I am going to make Chicago more fun and less anal by keeping the parks and beaches open longer. And I'm going to make sure the prices at festivals such as Taste of Chicago are reduced for city residents, because who can afford to pay six dollars for a hot dog or eight dollars for a little cup of Budweiser? And I am going to hold MORE of these festivals. There will be festivals ALL YEAR LONG under my leadership, because when I call it the Chicago Poetry Party, I DO mean PARTY.
