Friday, December 28, 2012

poem of the day 12.28.12

the model

he says this autumn has turned
back into spring
he was a bus driver for two years
but quit because he couldn’t handle
doing eight straight every day
but look at these guys, he says
as we watch the drivers change shifts
now they make eighty grand a year
for what?
sitting on their asses?
but it’s no matter to me
i’m 72 years-old and have a gig as a model
man i got the body of a 20 year old under this jacket
because i walk from brooklyn to manhattan every day
it’s only coincidence that i’m on the bus this evening
talking to you
but this modeling gig is big time at some art school
they have me get up on a stool
sometimes in a g-string
sometimes naked
all of these old ladies paint me or sketch me
i get a couple hundred a session for that
more when some of the old bats take me home
for a personal session or to ride my stump
so i ain’t so worried about giving up that bus driver gig
all of them years ago
who wants to sit on their ass all day every day?
i mean look at me, man
72 years old and i look like i’m 20
rock hard
no butter no bread no pizza
and i don’t even miss it but sometimes
because life is hard
and you got to have something in it to fill those hours
trust me i know
i lost my whole family seven years ago in a car wreck
my wife my daughter my mother
after that i just cut out of life
i slept in my car down at the 68th street pier
because i didn’t want to go home
i had no home, kid
i had no money
but i wasn’t about to go
and become something like a goddamned bus driver
there’s money to made anywhere
like this guy from a diner called me
because he heard about my mother dying
he wanted to meet me
said he was her old boyfriend
so i go to his diner and he starts telling me all about my mother
shit from before i was born
and he’s crying and i’m crying
only i notice this girl sitting near by
a cute blonde in baggy jeans and sneakers just writing away
turns out she worked for warner brothers
a few weeks later i get a call from her to meet at that diner
when i show up there she’s dressed to kill
painted toenails
fishnets tight
yellow skirt
says they want to do a movie about my life
she offers me good money but i don’t take it
i tell her i got money
which i did from the insurance settlement from the car wreck
i tell her maybe i’ll sign on for a movie
if i get a terminal disease or something
and this girl is so kind i start telling her more about my wife
bless her soul
and we hit it off
it turns out she’s an actress too
stared in the men in black films
the diner has her picture up there on the wall
it’s still there
and even though she’s 19 and i’m older than her old man
we start seeing each other
it blows me away how she handles my stump like she does
sure, i give her money
a grand here
a grand there
for acting lessons or whatever
she keeps telling me she’ll pay me back when she gets famous
but i tell her we have an affair of the heart
not the pocketbook
and what do i care for money?
having lost my family recently
my wife my poor sweet wife
she looked just like olive oil
she knew warhol and was a painter too
warhol was from pittsburgh
just like that steelers hat that you’re wearing
and i can’t help but think my wife sent me this blonde
to help me get over her
christ what a wild ride existence is
all that love
all that sex
you just don’t find women like her now
especially not on these buses
where all of the women are losers
even with their painted toenails and haircuts
there all dead
they go home and hump their cell phones
still live with their parents
but, man, you really should try getting a modeling gig
i mean i never believed that at 72
i’d have women chasing me the way that they do
chomping up my stump the way that they are
it’s almost like i’m in heaven despite it all
i’m in heaven here on earth
this bus
this life
talking to you on a random monday night, kid
it’s all bliss.

No comments: