poem of the day 02.25.14

heat

there is no heat in this building

fourteen degrees and three winter storms later

and there is no heat in here

the cat is crying

she’s lifting her paws off the wood floor

like she’s been stepping on hot coals

i’m wearing two pairs of socks

and it’s still not good enough to help me feel my toes

i know that millions have it worse

but in moments like these you wonder

what you’re paying for

living in new york city

where most days it costs an arm and a leg

just to step outside your door

but there is no heat in this building

no hiss coming from the radiator

no brain cell killing smell of oil from the basement

and there is no hot water

we are boiling water to wash dishes

forgoing showers and sex

embarrassed by our own filth

my wife and i are drinking scotch and wine medicinally

instead of for a laugh

the booze is a false warmth but a warmth all the same

the weather people on tv keep saying it’s cold out

brrrrr, they say

stay the hell indoors

but they are still dressed in short sleeves and sundresses

it’s a balmy seventy-five in the studio, one of the assholes says

and i think of murder as a cheap compromise

because there’s no heat in this building

the cat is still crying

i wish i could give her a shot of whiskey

to warm her or to shut her up

boil some more water and dunk her ass in it until she purrs

but i can’t because i can’t feel my fucking fingers

i’m thinking of putting on a hat and gloves

going outside to warm up in the ice and wind and snow

jog around the block until i find a mailbox

send the rent check out

with a little note to the landlord

who’s vacationing in miami this winter

just to ask him

how’s the heat?