1985
if i had any real talent
i think i would’ve invented
a time machine by now
instead of sitting on this bus
dog tired of this dead, dull world
hanging on this asshole’s plastic benevolence
as he plays this shitty salsa music
out of his crystal device
hoping that he doesn’t decide to do any worse
he’s looking around this bus
like the most contented motherfucker in america
and why shouldn’t he be?
no one is going to say a word to him
not me, not the other exhausted fools
not the bus driver dreaming his huge city pension
he’s singing along for everyone’s pleasure
we could go and hang ourselves on his noise
hang him if we had any guts
and i think it’s moments like this one
staring at this prick’s unused headphone jack
that maybe i should hang it up
stop wasting poems on this madness
quit the job, get a bungalow in the woods
learn to grow vegetables and start frying up squirrels
take up landscape painting and chess
read robinson jeffers with a wink and a nod
because this place is done
it’s just getting worse
with the race hating, the murder
the cycle of war, the beheadings
the android people walking down android streets of commerce
with their digital heads firmly up their digital asses
and still another NFL season to trudge through
yes
i think if i had any real talent
i would’ve invented that time machine
and maybe gone back thirty years or so
like to 1984 or even 1985
when i was younger and not so bothered
by so many things
although i’m pretty sure
everything was for shit then too.
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