Monday, August 19, 2013

poem of the day 08.19.13

enemy state

passing the street festival
twelve days of work and one off

and the people are smiling
sitting in the cruel sun drinking sodas and light beer
eating corn on the cob and greasy wieners

all that i can think
waiting to cross the street with my wine bottles
my red eyes and the merciless pain in the small of my back

is how disgusting they all look

how they look like grinning, chomping road kill
a rested and well-adjusted farce if ever i saw one

and that each and every one of these slap-happy cretins
from the youngest to the oldest
have become my true and stark sworn enemies

this place morphed into my fucking prison

my enemy state with cheap carnival rides
fried dough and another shitty local band
playing covers of dreadful radio songs

and when the light changes
i turn from this obnoxious circus and walk on

somnolent and brow-beaten
by the hapless art of my existence

but still so very very glad
that i’m not an ounce like any of them

and that i
don’t own a gun


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