poem of the day 02.05.14

poem in which i’m mad at the world

i’m mad

because it’s five o’clock in the morning

and i’m sitting here trying to make art

with the rest of brooklyn asleep

when i’m not even sure that i believe in art anymore

i’m mad at myself for feeling like that

and for drinking yesterday

when i said i wasn’t going to

but there was shit with the bank

shit with my parents

shit with my wife’s parents

shit with the refrigerator that i punched

there’s always shit that makes me mad

so i drank the poison on another sunday

and it felt great

so i’m mad at that

and this brutal winter

slipping in the snow and cracking a rib

falling in the shower and bruising my ass

catching a cold and staying up all night coughing

moaning over my ribs and ass

this winter needs to go the fuck away

like this government needs to go the fuck away

packs of privileged, splintered, whining rich diplomats

who’s forgotten the plight of the common man

i don’t even have enough room in this poem

to talk about how mad they make me

let’s just say i’m mad at america

for tossing people away like garbage

for bootstrap bullshit and runny egg dreams

i’m mad because i’m losing my mind

for eight hours a day five days a week

stuck doing nothing but counting

the months, the years, the decades until this ends

i wish i’d learned a trade instead

but what good what it do me in post-industrial america?

i’m mad because without this job

i’d be asking some asshole

do you want fries with that?

like millions of others have been forced to

i’m mad because here i’m considered

one of the lucky ones

i’m mad because i’m almost 40 years old

mad when i fall asleep at 9:30 on the couch

mad when friday night feels like a wake instead of a party

i’m mad because i’ve always hated parties

something about sitting at tables with more than four people

that always makes me feel like christ at the last supper

i’m mad that a 40^th birthday

is something worth celebrating to begin with

you’re on your way down at 40

no matter what the self-help books and celebrities say

no matter how you think and feel

because all the good shit has come and gone

and the small pleasures you have now

have probably taken too long to arrive

if it were up to me they’d take us out

and shoot us once we hit the big 4-0

i know i’m ready are you?

but no one listens to me

when i tell them this

they think i’m being foolish

they say dumb shit like lighten up

which, of course, just makes me mad