poem of the day 02.25.11

a 3:30 in the morning poem

it is it again
3:30 in the morning
the cat is meowing
because she is already hungry
because she has no sense of time
she is feeling around her mouth
looking for the missing teeth
the extracting that cost you
$1200 and a little bit of your spirit
your wife is asleep
3:30 in the morning
huddled into herself to defeat the cold
and you are alone with your
bank account nightmares
with the mounds of rejected poems
with an unsatisfactory existence
that keeps playing each day like
a bad sitcom rerun
with the wine pulsating in your bladder
burning in your stomach and chest
alone wondering if you are having a heart attack
thinking that it is hours
before you call the doctor
and he complains about your cholesterol
3:30 in the morning
and you think it will be a cold day in hell
before i see that doctor again
3:30 and the work week is on the horizon
and this year is like a playground bully
who keeps on pushing and pushing
you wonder when it is
that you will finally push back
3:30 in the morning
and the cat keeps meowing
she hears you moving
so she meows right in your face
you can almost make her out
in the red death glow of the alarm clock
flashing 3:30 in the morning
like a beacon
like a warning
like a farewell sign on the last outpost
before you enter hell.