Thursday, June 4, 2009

poem of the day 06.04.09

mountain lion

there is a mountain lion
in the basement
trying to get at me
and i don’t know how in the hell
he got there
but he’s brown and his breath stinks
and his teeth curl over his bottom jowl
and i’m not sure he’s even a mountain lion
but he keeps scratching at the basement door
he wants something
he’s going to eat all of my food
and read all of my books
i think he’s going to drink all of my beer
i know i’m going to have
to fight that mountain lion
because i’m restless and hungry
and devoid of words
because all of the cold beer
is in the refrigerator downstairs
in the basement
where the mountain lion is
and we’re getting on noon now
and i haven’t had a meal or a drink
and no goddamned mountain lion
is going to stop me from getting a beer
or some meat from the freezer
i mean i have beer upstairs but they’re all warm
i want a cold beer because it’s hot outside
but for some reason there’s
a mountain lion in my basement
all the steaks have turned gray
the pages of yellowed
and i don’t know who in the hell put him there
is this some kind of joke?
a government conspiracy?
a sign from god?
oh, christ, i can smell his breath through
the crack in the door
and i can taste his blood in my mouth
and i can feel the force of him against the wood
as he smacks and smacks and smacks
and makes me wait on beer and death
he wants my flesh
i don’t even know how to fight a mountain lion
do i use a gun? a knife?
can i reason with him?
can he be wrestled to the ground?
paid off to go away?
i wish hemingway were here
or mike tyson
somebody that has maybe taken on something
as big as this mountain lion
i know i sure haven’t
i’m a poet and i vote
and poets never take on anything bigger than a mouse
unless there’s a paycheck or tenure involved
and sometimes even a mouse
can make a poet turn yellow
i feel like this animal wants to devour
my soul
he wants to crack my ribs and pick at me
until there is nothing left
but dust and bones
i hate this mountain lion
i hate the way he rages at me
like he won’t stop
like he’ll never quit
and i guess i don’t care anymore
this has gone on too long
so i touch the basement door
and i grab the golden handle
i take one last breath
and then i open it.

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