Friday, June 13, 2014

poem of the day 06.13.14


hungover on 3rd avenue
just standing there
when he gets right up in my face

he points to my goatee
and then his own

do you, do you think i could get my goatee
that long one day?

i’d once watched him eat an entire hero sandwich
off of his barrel chest on the B4 bus

anything is possible, i tell him

look, look, he says, excitedly
we both got salt and pepper in our hair

yes, we’re both old

we’re like twins

almost, i say

i check my watch
wonder what is taking my wife so long
in the goddamned bagel store

i’m forty-four, he tells me
forty-four and wearing american flag suspenders

i’m forty, i answer
because…why in the fuck not?

ah, we’re both generation x

still stuck in the melancholy
and infinite sadness, i tell him

we had the best music, he says
the beatles, the stones, the who
the doors, the monkees, and the dead

that was our parents music, i say
we had cobain, 2pac, and a bunch of other crap

he frowns
i keep thinking of that sandwich on his chest
the way he picked away at the lettuce
and mayonnaise covered meat
until he had nothing but stains left on his t-shirt

it was the closest i’d ever seen
to anyone being truly free in public

the beatles were our music, too, he says

if you say so, pal, i answer

twins, he says one more time

then he waddles on down the block
to the music of a couple of teenagers
pointing and laughing behind his back

and it’s really just one more thing in this world
that he and i have in common.


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