Sunday, June 25, 2017


poem to the lady who made
two pregnant women stand on the evening bus

we are all tired
packed like sardines on this bus
and if in a society that actually valued
the hard work of its citizenry
maybe none of this would be
but all of the other people sitting around us
are eighty years old…if they’re lucky
but you, you look younger than me
sitting there yelling into your cell phone
with your chalkboard scratched, nicotine voice
all about how hot tim at the office thinks you are
girl, maybe you really do
have to beat them away with a stick
but there are two, count them, TWO pregnant woman
standing right in front of your dumb ass
holding the top of a bus pole
they’re practically on the tip of their toes to reach
one of them looks sweaty and sick
the other actually has her belly in your face
and what did you do?
you looked up at the women and scowled
like they’d taken turns spitting in that bag of cheetos you’re inhaling
glowering your injustice at such peasants
what would romeo at work think?
would he still find you so hot?
you gum chomping bag of gas with no morality
or maybe he’s just like you
and that’s part of the attraction
two self-involved assholes spinning cordial society into the dirt
kicking old people and tripping the blind for sport
what incredible kids the two of you will make
i’d say this is beyond audacity
but in some sick way i’m actually impressed
cruelty can be an art form
and this evening you perfected it, babe
so keep talking
keep slapping your knee
just like the ugly little port authority queen you are
sit there howling at the moon
as two septuagenarians give up their seats
for the women
keep on making america great for scum like you
you fucking bitch.            

--John Grochalski                                                      

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