Poems of the Day 09.25.08 and one for Ally because she thinks she always comes off bad in my writing

yesterday

i saw her
reading
how to say what
you want
to get what you
want.
but today she
is yawning
reading nothing.
i guess she got
it
all right,
or else she
realized
that answers
are seldom
found
in books
these days.


train ride, wednesday evening

i look at the back of
her legs
imagining her face
as he plays with her hair
stooped down
tousling it like she was on
a photo shoot.
she has on brown boots
that go to her knees.
mine are black
with holes on the bottom
so that i really feel
the concrete earth
and rips on the side
to take in the fall breeze.
i look at them and think
well, i’ve gotten four poems
published this week.
but then i realize i haven’t
written a good one
in almost a month.
it’s just as well.
i need new boots
more than i need good, new poems.
i need a beer
or to see her face
just to complete the picture
for some understanding
but her man won’t quit playing
with her hair
so she won’t turn around
so i stop watching her
and instead watch
the lunatic in a white hat
counting the rats running along
the live subway rails
dancing on the platform
to no music
as the 3 train nears
and wednesday night
finally ends for me
in this unforgiving city.


even fishermen get the blues

i can’t write this novel
i tell you
because i can’t connect
to the characters.
i just get up every morning now
and read the baseball scores
and the football news
mark more poems rejected
then i go on facebook
to check everyone’s status
as a form of habit.
the radio disc jockey talks
on and on
and i think i’m going mad.
you tell me
that even fishermen sometimes
don’t catch fish
but they are up every morning at 5 a.m.
with their rods and boxes
of tackle and bait regardless.
i nod but don’t really understand.
i was never much for sports analogies.
but yesterday on my walk to work
i saw two fisherman
a couple of miles apart.
both were coming in, empty handed.
they looked beat
done with the world,
but because of you i knew
they’d be out there the next day
and the next
casting their lines, waiting
because that’s what they do.
and this is what we do, early
before the sun and people try
to ruin it all.
i just forgot, baby.
and that’s another reason
probably one in the millions
that i’m glad you love me
and are a part of my lonely
and crazy life.