poem of the day 12.31.09

something for the stomach

all morning i have been complaining
i tell my wife that i need something
for the stomach

she tells me that i need to slow down on the drinking
that i’m too old to be throwing up in the morning
and having a stomach like this

i know, i know i say to her
but i need something for the stomach right now.

so we go to the drug store
and i buy the industrial strength liquid antacid
in cherry flavor
i drink it out on the street
i take a big gulp of it as people
walk by me on the way to their own miseries

i feel like a madman doing this
but i’m more like a dumb child
who’s bad act has been played out
over and over again

i see a woman i don’t like
i don’t like the way she’s looking at me
drinking this liquid antacid on the street
i want to grab her and tell her
look, bitch, i just needed something for the stomach

but she wouldn’t understand
with her perfect hair and clothing
she’s the type who thinks her shit doesn’t stink
the sad redundant type
trapped and locked into doing the same thing
again and again

i take another hit on the liquid antacid
and tell my wife that i’m picking up red wine
for us to drink tonight

my wife just sighs
and the woman looks back at me and frowns

sometimes you just can’t tell people anything