poem of the day 04.26.16

stoned immaculate

here comes

the king of amsterdam

stumbling out of rookies coffee shop

buzzed on his first marijuana high in years

here comes his head changed majesty

who sucked up more than half the joint on his own

because moderation is for peasants

wrecked ruler

of korte leidsedwarsstraat

glassy eyed and stoned immaculate

taking pictures for posterity

and here come the chest pains

two blocks later outside the sticky aroma of the pancake center

the thumping of the royal heart

the pulse of the stately ear drum

and that old paranoia that you weave so well

the king of amsterdam

suddenly fred sandford holding his chest

refusing to cross weteringschans

because the bikes and the cars

are coming too fast for him to process

this the big one! this is the big one lamont!

staggering dying for sure

while toked up french girls laugh and point his way

as this wasted monarch come junk man has his wife

guide him across the street like a child

whining and crying and asking the world

how he could do this to himself at forty one

down in amsterdam down in amsterdam

all he wanted was to get a little high

this baked ruler

who should just stick with the booze

pressed against a corner of an elevator that won’t move

because he forgot to press a floor

refusing to come out when it reaches their destination

afraid of stairs

afraid of his reflection in the mirror

a cooked tsar laying on the bed of his room

dragged in like a corpse

heart still thumping

pains up and down his arm

everything numb

waiting on the big one

it’s the big one lamont!

telling his dear wife

how he plans to jump out the window

three stories down into concrete bliss

and only fifteen minutes have passed in this contact high

stand back, as our fried liege

kills his wife’s buzz with his moaning and suicidal threats

threats to sue the hotel for that window

threats to sue the coffee shop for spiked weed

threats to sue the french girls for laughing

threats and threats and threats immaculate

witness the noble panic attack in full bloom

the flapping jowls, the sucks on waters

the foaming of the mouth

the big one i tell you!

though no heart attack has come.