Thursday, April 1, 2010

poem of the day 04.01.10

big beat and conservative radio

he claims to like classical music and rock
but all i get every morning
is conservative radio

i tell him about chilton’s corpse and chopin’s heart
but all he ever gives me in return
is a glenn beck nocturne
or a rush limbaugh sonata

it reminds me of back when i used
to haul windows and doors

the guys i worked with could listen
to that stuff for hours as we drove
from one dreadful town to the other

they’d talk and smoke cigarettes
and fart and agree with those pundits
for miles on end
while we helped build mansions for the rich

once i gave them beethoven and jim morrison
on a lunch break
but they frowned gave me sean hannity in stereo

i don’t like conservative radio

i don’t like liberal radio either, if i must be honest

there is nothing worse than going miles
listening to those red-faced blowhards
spew nonsense into the void
while hoping the next paycheck covers the bills

there is nothing good about hearing those
cackling muckrakers squeezing turd-scented sound bites
out of their stretched assholes
after coming in from a torturous bus ride in the rain
while trying to quit hard alcohol

i’d rather listen to mozart after having fucked for an hour
i’d rather listen to stones after a couple glasses of wine

or i’d take the silence if someone
would be so kind as to give it to me
every once in a long while

sometimes silence sounds the best
in the office or on the road

between the white walls of the dim
hopeless apartment after work

here i try to give him the good quiet
but all he wants to give me in return
is a fox news symphony
and crumbs all over the computer keyboard
after an italian sub lunch
that i can’t force down because of all the

talk talk talk

3 comments:

a thinker said...

I don't know if I like what you write or not. I think I do, but you never know the first time. Hum...very good, regardless.

小研 said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Bukowski's Basement said...

Edward R. Murrow is rolling over in his grave... true, the radio-waves are fraught with blowhards on BOTH sides...

And I happen to LIKE what you write...