Tuesday, August 24, 2010

poem of the day 08.24.10

hold it

the old bitch
is waving down to us

hold it!
hold it!

she’s screeching

the bus feels hot
idling there

hold it!
hold it!

i look down at her
dyed blonde hair
orange chicken legs
wide ass
tits sagging to her stomach

that voice again

hold it!
hold it!

like someone swallowing glass

and i wonder how many lives
she’s ruined with her tone

how many men she’s put in graves
with that wailing

hold it!
hold it!

when i get on the bus
i think i’ll be nice
but the driver stops me
before i get a word out

that woman has been
chasing me for blocks, he says
there’s another bus
behind this one

i shrug
go and find a seat
not baking in the sun

hold it!
hold it!

shrieking out into
the pale afternoon
until the bus doors close

and we move along
down the avenue
in near silence.


Akeith Walters said...

Very nice. A great statement made..

John Grochalski said...

Akeith...thank you...but the poem couldn't come close to the natural humor of watching this lady run after the bus.