poem of the day 02.07.11

glass bottle symphony

she keeps giving me
a glass bottle symphony
CLANK CLANK CLINK CLANK CLINK
CLUNK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLUNK
every wednesday night
right outside my bedroom window
a glass bottle symphony that
echoes into the brooklyn night
CLUNK CLUNK CLINK CLINK CLINK
CLANK CLANK CLUNK CLINK CLUNK
and i don’t think she’s ever
going to stop playing it
there’s too much money to be made
i think this is her career
CLANK CLINK CLINK CLINK CLINK
one old shopping cart
a thousand blue bags
and cold symphonic ambition
CLINK CLINK CLUNK CLUNKY CLUNK
i’ve asked her to stop a dozen times
i’ve begged her
i’ve lied
threatened
cut her bags with an old carving knife
as neighbors stood by in anger and awe
but all i get is
CLUNK CLINK CLINK CLINK CA-CLINK
i’ve told the industrious bitch that
i have cancer
the shits
porphyria
that there’s a baby asleep in the bedroom
a dying dog underneath the bed
she just smiles and waves me off
goes back to picking through the trash
looking for that amber like
woodwind and brass
conducting the glass bottle symphony
CLUNK CLUNK CLOOK CLOOK CLINK
CLANK CLANK CLANK CLINK CLANK
humming as she goes along
letting the stink of old beer and wine
fart out into the atmosphere
driving me mad on the bed
driving me mad in the living room
pouring a glass of wine from one of the
stack of sticky bottles
that’ll soon be an instrument of hers
whenever i get a chance to take
the recyclables out
then it’ll be
CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK CLINK
CLANK CLANK CLINK CLOOK CLINK CLANK
all night again
a glass bottle symphony in my dreams
next time maybe i’ll give up
give in
i’ll wave my arms better than bernstein
ever could
succumb to this glass bottle symphony of urban death
one for the ages
better than mahler or beethoven
CLANK CLINK CLOOK CLUNKY CLINK
CLANK CLINK CLINK CLINK CLANK CLINK CLINK