kitchen knives

what if I age like wine but don’t
take time to drink wine?
or take time not to drink wine?
what then?
what now?

you open envelopes from the top
I rip mine from the side
pay check today
bills tomorrow
pains, bad news,
mill mountain views
another gallon of water
she screams as she’s talking
better get some ear plugs
welcome kroger plus member
yes, I’ve remembered my card
I always have it

windows open finally with
actual air from the outside coming in!
cool breeze with
thin covers over us
Bob Marley on headphones
long day, ending here
a few words left
hoping for
peaceful dreams
though I know
how active my mind is these days
anything can happen

I was almost hit
by a Mack truck, and
that’s the least of
my problems.

fall television, classes
thinking about “the old days”
some bitterness in my heart
admitting it

trying to understand people
that say, “I’m not racist, but . . .
blah, blah, blah,” dropping
grocery lists on me
like it’s going to snow tomorrow.
believe me
you’re much safer saying,
“I fear I have a few strands of
racism in me
just for being
in this place in history”

cell phones going off
they’re printing more
business cards in
the press room
the tangled web of
the work space
constricted
choked
gasping
makes me think
of lines like
“you’re such
a sight
for sore eyes”
a day
can be
brutal

go out to the
car, turn on
the radio
they’re saying
maybe no more
overtime pay
I’m saying
your business
is to be at
home with
your family
you’ve got
no business working
40, what to speak of
50-60 hours “abroad”
if you have to
it’s the company that
ought to be fined –
all that overtime
shortening your lifeline

sept. 11 commies
come out wherever you are –
no flags found near me
I just
don’t know where to
start anymore
it’s that listless quality
it’s that mindlessness anomaly
it’s that torn tendon economy
so where are
your loyalties
mine go miles through to
the earth’s core
the rest
are lighting firecrackers
vomiting up bumper stickers
supporting troops
spewing the redundant jargon

time can exist to confuse us into being petty and
taking rigid sides
dividing greediness hoarding lying,
not following through
camera pans to
the next mellow drama
I can’t talk about fighting cancer
until I’m actually fighting cancer
don’t try
to draw such parallels
really you cannot
punch your way out
of a wet paper bag
I’ve heard that
don’t know if it’s true
you
wet
paper
bag
trapped
inside
not
punching
through
a lost
endeavor
could
be a rumor
never say never
it only
gets better

I will sit here and you can stab me to death with all the kitchen knives you can find and I will still go to poetry readings all over the planet for as long as I feel the need to.

this is soft going like plants are privileged to listen to Mozart, fathers reading to their children in the afternoon while still in the womb.

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