Tuesday, February 25, 2014

poem of the day 02.25.14


there is no heat in this building
fourteen degrees and three winter storms later
and there is no heat in here
the cat is crying
she’s lifting her paws off the wood floor
like she’s been stepping on hot coals
i’m wearing two pairs of socks
and it’s still not good enough to help me feel my toes
i know that millions have it worse
but in moments like these you wonder
what you’re paying for
living in new york city
where most days it costs an arm and a leg
just to step outside your door
but there is no heat in this building
no hiss coming from the radiator
no brain cell killing smell of oil from the basement
and there is no hot water
we are boiling water to wash dishes
forgoing showers and sex
embarrassed by our own filth
my wife and i are drinking scotch and wine medicinally
instead of for a laugh
the booze is a false warmth but a warmth all the same
the weather people on tv keep saying it’s cold out
brrrrr, they say
stay the hell indoors
but they are still dressed in short sleeves and sundresses
it’s a balmy seventy-five in the studio, one of the assholes says
and i think of murder as a cheap compromise
because there’s no heat in this building
the cat is still crying
i wish i could give her a shot of whiskey
to warm her or to shut her up
boil some more water and dunk her ass in it until she purrs
but i can’t because i can’t feel my fucking fingers
i’m thinking of putting on a hat and gloves
going outside to warm up in the ice and wind and snow
jog around the block until i find a mailbox
send the rent check out
with a little note to the landlord
who’s vacationing in miami this winter
just to ask him
how’s the heat?                                    

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