Another Tuesday

Tuesday the crowds gather and cheer the new president and hope is in the air

a flu bug is in the air
and my hopes frown
at the bottom of the barrel
waiting for a pleasant surprise

it’s the face you have
to look at for quite awhile

and when the speech was done
he could’ve thrown some
better poets up there
like Saul Williams
the Bad Brains
or hell, me

but here we are aren’t we?
are not we
aleady alive?

those who have not
fallen asleep in their own vomit
those who are still awake
please pick up your trash and
the trash of others for
at least a good fifteen minutes.
this goes to show graditude and
appreciation are not dead
(though nibbled on, ahem).

post-inaug. notes what’s it feel like to be the father of the boy who dies from debris at a monster truck show? in an altered state you wonder what it’s like to be the boy, the object piercing your skull. maybe due to trauma you shut down and go to another place, then you go to another place.

the heater won’t come on ever again and is evil and I’ll do my real shit talking in the morning and demand only the best since I am after all paying the fucking bill, right?

change is gonna happen
some change is gonna slow crawl
into existence
other change is going to
spill into the contents of your luggage
or swipe the hand
off your Buddha statue
at a monster truck show