"best of" poem of the day 05.25.15

wow...this poem is 9 years old.....it reads like it's 9 years old as well

memorial day

i told her we should

go to the park and have

a picnic.

she told me i hated picnics,

which is true.

picnics and parades

and kids and dogs

and disney and

the 4^th of july and

football sundays

and people who talk to me

in bars when all i want is

a drink.

but it was worth a shot.

the summer was coming

already the cats were laying

on the linoleum in a heat-induced

coma.

it was getting harder to fuck,

burning and sweating until

we had to pour water on each

other’s assholes just to

settle down.

in a month the apartment

would be unbearable.

we had to get out and do something

now, i thought.

maybe we could just walk up

and down elmwood avenue,

going only into the air conditioned shops

but you hate people and shopping too, she said.

which was also correct.

so we opened up a couple of bottles

of cheap wine,

then the 12 pack of yuengling,

pulled down the shades,

and didn’t answer the phone.

we watched a couple of bad movies,

and fell asleep before the sun went down.

it was a good holiday

                        05.30.06