Tuesday, April 27, 2010

poem of the day 04.27.10

crazy freddy

crazy freddy
drives a brand new black hummer

he always gets the best
parking spot on 75th avenue

i was just told that i might
lose my job by the summer

on good days i wonder
what it would be like
to take a knife
to crazy freddy’s tires

to sit back in the dark cool
of a spring night
and watch the air seep slowly out

i’ve never seen crazy freddy
but i know that it’s his preferred name

his license plate reads

crzyfrdy

it could be crazy friday
but that doesn’t make as much sense

i saw his chick once
she had a great ass and decent tits

she’d be a good fuck
if you put a bag over her head

for a while i thought that she
was crazy freddy

but then i wised up

crazy freddy probably fucks her
with the lights on
so he can keep an eye on his car

i wonder what it would be like
to key crazy freddy’s car
or smash his tinted windows in
steal that decal he has
of a fake baseball cracking his window

i’d scrape off his yankess and rangers
bumper stickers too

then i’d get up the next morning
buy a coffee
wait for crazy freddy and his woman
to come outside to go to work

i’d pretend to be a concerned neighbor
while they explored all of the damage

i’d console crazy freddy

i’d tell him to call the cops

i’d say things like
“boy, the neighborhood sure has changed.”

then i’d stare at crazy freddy’s woman’s tits
while he moaned over his destroyed vehicle

of course, i’d probably still be
unemployed by the summer
so it wouldn’t really matter
what i did to crazy freddy’s hummer

it would just be inflicting more
misery upon the world

the world doesn’t need more misery right now

insurance companies don’t need another claim

i think i’ll leave crazy freddy alone

i won’t touch his precious car
or be jealous of his parking spot

when i see his chick
i won’t stare at her ass
or imagine crazzy freddy
tit-fucking her with his eyes closed
crying over his damaged ride

no, i won’t think shit like that at all

i’ll just meander on down the street
toward the setting sun

toward the scent of half-priced buffalo wings

toward this guy whom i hate on the next block

he’s always sitting outside the laundromat
in his washington redskins t-shirt

as if it’s some kind of big shit deal
to be a redskins fan
in giants and jets territory

brooklyn, new york.

2 comments:

Bukowski's Basement said...

There's always a Crazy Freddy somewhere isn't there??

btw... small typo:

on good says i wonder
what it would be like

I think you meant "days"

John Grochalski said...

damn...fucking typos. where were you when i sent that out? ha ha. oh well, i guess they won't be taking that one.