Showing posts with label poem 13. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem 13. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

brought to you by

what is this thing i am pouring sand of myself into
watch it pool and sputter
then ask it to see i'm trying my best
no matter if the shape hasn't held

Monday, January 19, 2026

WHAT'S EVERYONE LOOKING FOR

a brain, a muzzle
says mom
a capsule you get into for a break 
from knowing
i say
a book as easy to read 
as the last
i don’t have a good answer
says my brother
maybe a bathrobe


Sunday, January 18, 2026

HOW THE WORLD WORKS

Living abroad, medical school, 
delivering babies, her own & others’, 
God knows what else she’s done 
yet she claims it’s the MBA teaching her 
how the world works. 
 Follow the money, I guess. 

 Except some of us would do anything 
 to be loved 
or live forever. 
Even people with money sometimes throw 
it all away for a touch or kiss 
then spend the rest of their lives covering it up. 
Do they teach that in business school too?

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

Today Voicemails on Phone

 Today Voicemails on Phone


Hello, my name is Joni Barrow, and I’m

calling from beabentabits. Actually I’m

calling from Oprah’s medical stare connector.

Please be aware this call will be 

recorded. Ohio public explorers has

authorized us to call regarding your

upcoming transmission to a new

heath bar.



Uh, this is fair benefits insurance

services, color for Nancy Kagus on

the recorded line. Opus anthroposis to

give you a call to assist with your

upcoming transition into muricate.
Please give us a call you have any

questions on how to get started with

muricate, not enroll, so please give us a

call. We can go over information with

you, and number. Upon allowed

to open from 8am to 7pm

Eastern timbale. Thank you have 

a great day. 

Caliente through the Baseboards


I.

Ay, Sounds like a warzone in the apartment upstairs, e'te tipo ta' enfogonao otra ve'  

and the babies are crying, que cabró

I can't hear the wife, who can blame her, why try to outshout un loco?

Ay, Sounds like a warzone upstairs, e'te tipo ta' enfogonao otra ve'  

The stomps and the silences, right above my head

The walls and floors are paper thin in this building but rent is cheap so I stay

Ay, Sounds like a warzone upstairs, e'te tipo ta' enfogonao otra ve' 

and the babies are crying, que cabró


II.

I wish he would shut the hell up

The guy upstairs who gets angry again and again 

Like the time months went by, months of silence, peace and quiet

I wish he would shut the hell up

Like when I wondered if he was at Jet Set, morbid thought, but I was wrong, he came back

Why does the world lose a voice like Rubby Pérez?

I wish he would shut the hell up

The guy upstairs who gets angry again and again 

III.

Color de Rosa / the song I play en loop when he gets angry and yells at all of us

Ese merengue caliente through the floor, caliente through the baseboards 

De color de rosa veo la vida hermosa y del amor estoy enamorado

Color de Rosa / the song I play en loop when he gets angry and yells at all of us

When the guy upstairs gets angry, I play my Color de Rosa marathon FULL BLAST

de color de rosa ... /After I shut the music, all's quiet on the upstairs front after

Color de Rosa / the song I play en loop when he gets angry and yells at all of us

Ese merengue caliente through the floor, caliente through the baseboards 

John, of Bloomington

John as sex guy,
suddenly all I was hearing was about
John, sex guy, drug guy,
person around a dj guy,
John forever known to all
the world of Bloomington
as Bloomington guy
gormless, standing in an alley
piss dripping down 
the inside of
his trouser leg
and my judgement came at me from
8 years yonder
I vowed to return to my room
in spite - no you've got to meet John -
no, my room,
which I did 
and slept
'til dawn when the others returned
and these years since staring
through the cracks of my fingers
at the image of John
and whatever he does all weekend
as sex guy, the man,
John
and me, not man, as men,
my middle-age to see men,
all gingerbread men
mindlessly floating towards
freedom
on the tip of the fox's nose.