Thursday, October 22, 2015

poem of the day 10.22.15

julio

comes in sometimes in his pajamas
when he still has his hospital wrist bands on
i know the night could go either way
he loves to chase the girls
the twelve and thirteen year olds
who are maybe just learning how to flirt
who could’ve winked at julio once or twice
before they knew the deal
now they run from him
squeal and hide in the bathrooms
have their moms come and give me shit about julio
but i have no idea who takes care of him
other people move their seats
because julio stands over them
sometimes he shouts about rape and murder
he pulls at those hospital wrist bands
while they’re trying to read the newspaper
yesterday his hair was blue now it’s the color of rust
i’m told i have to call the cops
when julio gets too out of hand
but i hate dealing with cops
so i’ll save those bastards for when he
tries to rip the women’s room door off of its hinges
or when he sits with a table of girls
giggling and slobbering on himself
ready to take it out and go to self-pleasure town again
the good nights are the ones like tonight
when julio comes in dressed normally
waves hello and just falls asleep at one of the tables
sometimes he snores too loudly
and it bothers the newspaper reading people
when they come and complain to me
i swear i listen to them and feign my concern
but on a peaceful night like this
i find it hard not to smile
laugh at them right to their faces
tell them about the shit that went down
only just last night
when julio screamed bloody murder
in the bathroom for fifteen minutes
and then came out smiling
like the newly anointed king of brookyn
to a kingdom of frozen and terrified subjects.                                                    

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