poem of the day 04.29.16

fat american kids

at the anne frank house (amsterdam)

they’re running circles

around me and my wife

and everyone else whose standing out here

like we’re going to a rock concert

instead of  going where eight people hid from the nazis

they have us queued in a tight pack

near the church where rembrandt is buried

or where he buried his old lady

i don’t honestly remember

all i know is these kids are getting on my nerves

two pasty, tow-headed cherubs

with their midwestern elongated a’s

and two wisconsin t-shirts wrapped around their fat bellies

americans always want you to know where they’re from

when they travel overseas

jetlagged and in need of a drink

i’ve already seen two new york yankees hats

and some shithead in a pittsburgh steelers jersey

but these kids, good christ

their parents must have them hopped up on something

all of the chocolate and sugary waffles i’ve seen here

they can’t keep still

and the old lady is giving it to the old man

about where they’re going to have dinner

while the kids run around jumping on shit

that’s older than their shitty state

saying things like, why do we have to visit the house

of some dumb girl who died?

the little fuckers

and their parents don’t even have a reason

the old man shrugs

and dear old mom keeps complaining about where

they can take the kids to shove some food

down their fat faces

i’ve already checked wisconsin off the list

of places that i’ll ever chance to go

and if this line weren’t so long

i’d say fuck it and see if the wife wants to

go and dig up rembrandt’s bones

or find some place sans children

where we can get a stiff drink

but anne frank is important

it’s important to see important things i’m told

i often tear up in front of van gogh

and i’ve almost seen the grave of william shakespeare

plus, now the boy is trying to frog hop

these metal poles they have all over amsterdam

to keep the sidewalk separate from the street

there’s a good chance he’ll land wrong

and crush his nuts

or maybe even smack his jaw on it

bite off his tongue and break a few teeth

if nothing else

at least that ought to be worth the price

of admission

and the precious traveler time lost

to see that little abomination

rolling on the pavement all bloody and broken

while standing in this line with the ghost of anne frank

and a bottle of vodka

on my mind.