Tuesday, November 10, 2015

poem of the day 11.10.15

at least she didn’t break up the beatles

but she’s locked herself
in a bathroom stall
and she’s howling like yoko ono
in one of those plastic ono band bags on stage
people are crowding around the door
a mother who was in the other stall with her kid
comes running out of the bathroom
looking like she’s been interrogated at gitmo
and the howls get louder
before the door shuts again
people laugh but it’s hard to figure out
what’s funny these days
some howling lunatic
or a wealthy fascist making jokes on tv
she’s not even crazy, really
just homeless
one of the new group we have
coming around here
since the government started telling us
that the economy is growing healthy again
sometimes she’s across the street
in front of the chinese restaurant
shrieking in the sunshine
today the skies have opened up
and every inch of ground is soaked
so she’s in here in the bathroom
moaning at whatever demons she has
a couple of people knock on the door
someone suggests we call the cops
i never think the cops do any good in these situations
the uniform and the badge
they usually just make it worse
on the homeless
eventually the wailing gets boring to everyone
they walk away and business returns to normal
and just like it started the howling stops
the bathroom door opens up
and she exits with big plastic bag strapped to her stomach
it hides most of her face
except the eyes
which aren’t looking at anyone or anything
but the big glass brick window
to see whether or not the sun is back out.


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