poem of the day 10.22.15

julio

comes in sometimes in his pajamas

when he still has his hospital wrist bands on

i know the night could go either way

he loves to chase the girls

the twelve and thirteen year olds

who are maybe just learning how to flirt

who could’ve winked at julio once or twice

before they knew the deal

now they run from him

squeal and hide in the bathrooms

have their moms come and give me shit about julio

but i have no idea who takes care of him

other people move their seats

because julio stands over them

sometimes he shouts about rape and murder

he pulls at those hospital wrist bands

while they’re trying to read the newspaper

yesterday his hair was blue now it’s the color of rust

i’m told i have to call the cops

when julio gets too out of hand

but i hate dealing with cops

so i’ll save those bastards for when he

tries to rip the women’s room door off of its hinges

or when he sits with a table of girls

giggling and slobbering on himself

ready to take it out and go to self-pleasure town again

the good nights are the ones like tonight

when julio comes in dressed normally

waves hello and just falls asleep at one of the tables

sometimes he snores too loudly

and it bothers the newspaper reading people

when they come and complain to me

i swear i listen to them and feign my concern

but on a peaceful night like this

i find it hard not to smile

laugh at them right to their faces

tell them about the shit that went down

only just last night

when julio screamed bloody murder

in the bathroom for fifteen minutes

and then came out smiling

like the newly anointed king of brookyn

to a kingdom of frozen and terrified subjects.