poem of the day 10.08.10

poem for jackoff

jackoff is outside
getting in his morning walk

the old bastard who takes care of him
my wife once caught him in the basement
going through her bras and underwear

he claims that he was
just taking them out of the washer
in order to do his clothing

i see this man everywhere in our building
on the bus, all over brooklyn
but i have yet to ask him about the underwear

jackoff is a yorkshire terrier

i don’t really know his real name
i just follow the man’s lead

sometimes the dog is jackoff
you little prick or son-of-a-bitch

if it’s raining outside in the morning
then the dog’s name is motherfucker

sometimes cocksucker

if it is snowing outside, the dog has no name at all

i can smell the old man’s cigar in the mornings
hearing him wheezing from the coming storm of death
as i sit here in the room
debating masturbation, the work day, or the knife

sometimes jackoff yelps
from being pulled too hard

he barks and cries

i feel bad for the dog but not enough
to do anything about it

one time when i was leaving for work
the man and jackoff were coming
back inside the apartment building
the foyer stunk of his cigar
and the dog had just taken a shit

it was a small black pile that looked like coal

when i tried to walk by the mess
the little fucker lunged at me
barking and gnashing his toy-like teeth

the old man started screaming and shaking jackoff

that’s when i realized the two of them
deserved each other

and every morning when the madness
the yelping and the name calling begin outside
i sit here calmly in this room
death and the work day on my mind

writing poems like this one
or ones concerning other topics too.