Monday, October 26, 2015

poem of the day 10.26.15

friday afternoon at froth’s tavern

american flags
in every corner of the joint

tv on full blast
to the dr. oz show

bar full of dead people
on a dead afternoon

where nothing is getting done

maybe this place
was full of life once

but now it’s like a morgue in here

short drafts sitting like statues
as we kill the hours

the hours we claim
we want so badly
while dying at jobs

and here they are spread out
these little gifts of time

as amber pitchers go untouched
as lovers play on their phones
heads down and alienated

as dr. oz shares a recipe
that will keep us living forever

while the jukebox sits dead
like some relic from a civilization

who once had the secret
on how to really live.


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