Tuesday, September 22, 2009

poem of the day 09.22.09

taking out the trash

in the elevator
with one woman
and two men
on cell phones
the small box
smells like a french
one bag of cat shit
in my hand
the other bag
full of rotten vegetables
and rancid meat
½ a bottle of scotch in me
an old t-shirt
with blood and sweat and wine
stained on it
shorts ripped all over
and falling down
feet naked and dirty
from my hardwood floor
a week-old beard
and they look at me
like i’m the madman
crowding their space.
they’ve never suffered.
they’ve never lived
a day in their lives
as well.

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