poem of the day 07.30.10

the asshole at the end of this bar

has been playing nothing but rap music
on the jukebox

it’s been going on for over an hour now

the entire oeuvre of the beastie boys
and now it’s eminem

he won’t play the black shit
in this joint

all the old drunks are grumbling
but it’s okay
the asshole at the end of this bar
is a new york city fireman

he’s been telling us stories about 9/11
rehashing that bullshit
while the rap music molests our heads
and rattles our bones

he has touched all of the old drunks’ hearts
it’s the only reason that they haven’t killed him yet

suddenly we are all taken back
to that fateful day

they all want to share where they’d been

the asshole at the end of this bar
tells us he wishes he was able to help more people
that he just missed the towers falling down

he arrived too late in my opinion

he gets misty-eyed retelling it
as ol’ eminem
still the poet laureate of the american idiot-ocracy
raps about raping and killing his ex-wife

i stare at
the asshole at the end of this bar
trying to see something in him
trying to see what they are all seeing
a modern day hero

but there is nothing to him

there is flesh and blood, bone
and a little gray matter

that is all

except for his penchant for rap music

so i shoot down my beer
i ask the wife if she wants to go somewhere else
as all the old boys start in on
obama and illegal immigrants

we find another bar about two blocks down
where the asshole at the end of that bar
is nursing a pint of coors light
and bobbing his head
to a cher song

and this is all right with us

for now.