day NINETY FIVE

walking to work poem

            --after frank o’hara

it’s the worst

when the sky is cloudless

and the trees are still leafless

and the seasons haven’t decided

between the winter and the spring

i can freeze or sweat

with the best of them

and i have every house on this walk memorized

like children do with bad poetry

especially the ones that had signs in their lawns

supporting the new dipshit president

which says more about me than them

that is to say

what we talk about when we talk about vengeance

and the same lady is smoking at 10^th avenue

and the same old man is telling everyone

what a beautiful day his god has given us

and the same dog wants me dead on 17^th avenue

biting and gnawing at a heavy metal fence

for my simple audacity of trying to get to work

somewhere along this stretch my ipod will die

and high school girls will act

like they can walk right through me

and the high school boys will smoke pot

while they talk their man-child tough talk

and i still won’t be able figure out what music it is

that i want to listen to

and it has been twenty five years since high school

so i stick with jazz

because i always play jazz

when i’m undecided

except for when i play coltrane

when i play him i feel immortal

only on the next block a tiny electric car tells me

that the future is female

which makes me feel good for a little while

that is to say

this city is full of over eight million people

and i’m so happy in this moment

to truly know

next to none

of

them.        

--John Grochalski