Tuesday, March 5, 2013

poem of the day 03.05.13

parallel parking

i can see her

i wish i had a sign that read
no talking to me during my walk to work

a sign like that would save me
so many of these moments

but i can see her waving me down

and tchaikovsky’s 6th is ending on my
magical music machine

it’s fading into a dissonance
that was taking me with it until this

but she’s waving me down

running across a busy street
flailing her arms as if she were on fire

what? i say when she reaches me
corners me really

and i don’t turn the tchaikovsky down
until i get that last recognizable note

can you drive? she says
in a thick russian accent

she points over to a car that is half out into the street
motor running and some terrible music infesting the block

i don’t have a license
which is a lie

i simply won’t help people who can’t help themselves

but you can still drive? she says
which means she’s willing to break the law to get what she wants

no, i tell her, moving on

having lost tchaikovsky because of this business
but gaining dvorak to compensate

can anyone drive?  i hear her shouting


anyone please?

then i turn the music up to drown her out

i’m sure she’ll find someone, i tell myself,
some good citizen to come and parallel park her car

but in a proper world
two teenagers would be joyriding brooklyn in that rumbling thing

while she gives a stolen property statement
to a couple of cops

two jolly flatfoots
laughing so goddamned hard

that they can barely write a sentence
in that little black pad of theirs.

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