Thursday, April 25, 2013


Winedrunk Sidewalk WILL return on Monday, May 6th.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Poem of the day 04.24.13

    For Amanda Palmer

Rape her in gitmo, call her a clown face
These sons and daughters of liberty
Who'd sell their own mothers out for a sound bite
Who'd wipe their asses with the flag to save their skin
Ask, how high, when told to jump by preening ideologues
Cry on the media's command
I guess that's why they call 'em trolls, amanda
Those little lap dogs of freedom on these peep show streets
Hiding under the bridge for the next brave goat
To tear down when they come clomping along

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

poem of the day 04.23.13

fish oil and ketchup

this thai food tastes like fish oil and ketchup, i think
trying to flag down the waitress for my bill
a pitcher of beer, two bourbons, and two glasses of wine
and i’m done with the smiling faces of the other diners
watching them chew their food and talk common nonsense
i also think about how much i don’t like america or americans
because there’s something inherently dull and stupid about them
but i could probably never live anywhere else out of fear
and when the waitress comes i can’t tell if she’s a boy or a girl
but it’s all right because i’ve never been good a deciding on things.


Monday, April 22, 2013

poem of the day 04.22.13

shit i call it shit

i could never put a positive spin on this life
the way that my mother tries too hard to do
thanking god for the good times and courage during the bad
there’s something in me that just won’t acquiesce to joy
because when shit is shit i call it shit without the spin
still, i feel bad when i get off the phone leaving her in tears
like a selfish drunken bastard with no regard
for the woman who gave me this mediocre life to make mine
the worst piece of flesh ever farted out between two legs
in a steel city snow and rain storm back in april of 1974


Saturday, April 20, 2013

poem of the day 04.20.13

it’s 4:20 somewhere

new utrecht high school girls smoke pot on corners
watching dull thug boys slap box their brain cells
make squealing, excitable sounds when cop cars
come down the street to encroach upon their freedoms
america the buzz kill, american authority so anemic and lame
well, it’s 4:20 somewhere, i think, this gray morning
watching these kids visine their eyes before breakfast
readying their mug shot, mcdonaldland smiles in car windows
steadying their wombs for that jazzy welfare armageddon rag.

Friday, April 19, 2013

poem of the day 04.19.13

home of the brave

we, the vapid stupid flabby ignorant damned fetus-loving
children-hating ill-informed vain-glorious gun-violent
fear-mongering jesus freak jarhead-loving media obsessed
filibuster fast food calorie oil drilling megalomaniac
xenophobic racist pill-popping booze swilling star-fucking
illiterate profligate corporate-tit-sucking ludicrous third-world
mouth-breathing cable-watching flag-waving war hawk fuckers

every time i hear the national anthem
i sit there and laugh my star-spangled ass off until it hurts.


Thursday, April 18, 2013

poem of the day 04.18.13

i’m not invisible

this black-hooded pre-teen abomination
sits in the back of the building
blasting his little video game to the point
where i want to commit a bloody massacre
so i storm over to him and tell him to mute the fucker
but the little douche doesn’t even look at me
he just keeps his head down and puts on his earbuds
doesn’t even acknowledge that i exist
or show me anything to prove that i’m not invisible
a useless ghost like the other aging, walking damned.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

poem of the day 04.17.13

like passing pizzas
in the frozen food aisle

boston explosions like erosions of civil liberties
hang as we move gingerly from this new agony to the next
like passing pizzas in the frozen food aisle
as nitwit politicians and the merciless media
assign meaning to common and vile acts
as every village idiot with a ten-cent opinion
post their solicitous facebook status and meme hearts
then wait calmly for the next tragedy 
to come strolling casually around the block
to give them something to yap about over their morning coffee.


Tuesday, April 16, 2013

poem of the day 04.16.13

america the beautiful

watching myself on a video screen bigger than my tv
i’m like a mimic at my work station
a trained monkey working for the weekend
still, it feels good to be so photogenic yet safe
this corporate culture of minute monitoring is like a blanket
keeping me docile and warm, harmless for the playback
and tonight as the sun sets on street corner after street corner
under the ubiquitous reflection of police surveillance cameras
smile, open up your window and say cheese, buttercup
because it’ll be me singing america the beautiful to you.


Monday, April 15, 2013

poem of the day 04.15.13


is a little pug-fisted fat russian bastard
maybe around four or five years old
who keeps screaming on the bus his holy madness
pulling the yellow tabs, stopping us at every block
while his fat pug-fist mother yells to no avail
zack, whom i’d like to explain my bleeding skin tab neck
the hemorrhoid itch up my ass, my jock-itch balls, my bum knees,
my fungus chest, my ulcer stomach and the ceaseless work hours
zack, this waste of sperm, pulls the yellow tab again and screams
looks at me with no mercy, no mercy in his heart at all.


Friday, April 12, 2013

poem of the day 04.12.13

technophobe in me

the technophobe in me
goes into a staples store to buy a printer
but can’t understand half the information on the box
gets ready to ask the clerk
don’t you have printers that you just plug-in and print?
none of this wireless, eprint, iphone junk
but the technophobe in me stays mute and confused
fondles a typewriter at the end of the aisle
then leaves the staples store in placid empty-handed ecstasy
dreaming away these twenty-first century blues.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

poem of the day 04.11.13

the bitch

hat crooked, he talks in text language
exasperating phrases like, mad cigarette butts’n’shit
some jumbled new american language created by steve jobs
and the failure of the american education system
tries to make eyes at some young mother
playing video games on her cell phone with her son
tells his buck-toothed buddy she’s, mad hot,
loud enough for her and the rest of us to hear
then calls her a bitch when she doesn’t smile back at him
bow down to his kingly anointment or offer reciprocation in kind.


Wednesday, April 10, 2013

poem of the day 04.10.13

national poetry month

april is the cruelest month so said eliot
and in chile they are digging up pablo neruda
to see if it was pinochet poison that got him instead of cancer
but then april is also national poetry month
which is cruel in and of itself
so maybe it makes sense to dig up a great old poet
four decades later, like he's dinosaur bones
expose his rotted corpse to a world full of countless literary journals
full of living poets who really should be buried six feet deep
instead of boring everyone with their words.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

poem of the day 04.09.13


there has been no trick to it
just a plain and uncomplicated existence
a good immune system thus far
perseverance and toughness when needed
boatloads of furious doubt and copious amounts of alcohol
enough glimmers of success to keep me going
as each year ups the ante on my mind and body
love and lust and women and friends few and far enough between
with most everything else simply something to suffer quietly
like constipation in the dull spaces of hard-lost time.


Monday, April 8, 2013

poem of the day 04.08.13

life without parole

i feel furious, gutted emotionally
sickened by guilt and glue and floor wax smells
but still he comes at me like fresh meat
calling me a fuck of a fucking low life, as if he knows
grabs the laptop out of his woman’s hand
like he wants to hit me with it
but instead storms out into traffic like a madman
leaving me there hands shaking, violence made manifest
knowing if that guido prick tries to come back in here
i’ll be doing life without parole in no time flat


Friday, April 5, 2013

poem of the day 04.05.13

she got it black-lit high

she got it black-lit high
burping away her lunch in techstasy
parked in front of ipad and iphone and cell phone
playing loud games with a stylus
as her phone beeps capitalism triumphant
she got it so black-lit high she don’t know
that march is gone and the sun is shining
and the birds outside aren’t angry
just a little mournful on mornings
when they can’t catch that little brown worm.


Wednesday, April 3, 2013

poem of the day 04.03.13

bad guy archetype

i’m the villain with the twirling black moustache
the black hat and the black suit
the shroud walking into town in the fog
snidely whiplash tying you to the railroad tracks
the eye-rolling, cackling, leering, hand-rubbing
bad guy archetype of your nightmares
who dreams of ruling the world in wicked bliss
the scoundrel, the crook, the rascal, the rat, and the rogue all in one
the cloaked ghoul sitting here before the dawn
dropping poems on your head like middle eastern bombs.


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

poem of the day 04.02.13

definition of new kind of love

eating falafel over rice
in washington square park
trying to wish the spring
through frozen arms and sex fingers
i can still hear him shouting a block away
about killing the man who put it in his baby’s mother
saying, i’ll kill, i’ll kill him with such passion
that his wailing into the echo of nyu dorms
sounded like he’d found the definition
of a new kind of love.


Monday, April 1, 2013

poem of the day 04.01.13

march is ending with a cough
-after kristofer collins

march is ending with a cough
a backwards resurrection of old poems
the rattle of the morning window shade infinite
as joggers hack spring allergens
and dogs whine their piss and shit walks
march is ending with a cough of gloom
with every word that i’ve written this month
sacrificed to the exploding cherry red cosmos
of my idiot boy-heart.