hooker

when i was 9
i was told the meaning
of the word
hooker

halloween was coming up
and i had heard
that these creatures
dressed like
madonna

i explained to mom
that i wanted my costume to be
heavy makeup
a black mini
and a bra

a hooker.

she
laughed.

a hooker
she said
is a woman who
sells her body
for money.
is that what
you want to be??

sells her body...

sells her body??

organ donation
came to mind
and,
confused
i settled on
being a
witch.

southern comfort

the comfort
rolls down
the throat
warm
and sweet
and loving
licking my insides
until i'm dancing
with the bottle
past midnight
past 2

night air
filling pockets
of my pores
sockets
of my eyes

wish i could hold onto
everyone i've ever known
just grab them up
and shove them down into
my pockets
and tell them

it's alright, babies
none of that matters
now
so turn off that
outside nonsense
and dance with me
until we sleep.

and when we sleep
just before
dawn
the dreams writhe
in blues and jazz
in deep red shades
of
mmmmmmm

and when i wake
i have one
massive
fucking
headache.

times

Times they were stunted and malnourished
As the ideas that fed them (and fed on them)
From limbless trees labeled “knowledge,”
And kegs of hope impossibly shallow.
From the diluted collective consciousness
To the atrophied souls of youth,
It was the land of the lost
(only less entertaining and
Minus the dinosaurs).

All of our great novels lay unfinished
As did the lives that supplied them.
But there were just too many words
About crossroads and destiny
That it clogged the arteries of imagination
And cramped the styles of those
Less self-absorbed than us.

We conspired to revive a lost generation,
Presumed to speak the thoughts of many
But we could hardly organize our own.
We were prepared to change the world
With our pens
But sadly, no one was listening.

looking for a fox

i'm adding
numbers
totalling payments
for the
day

a hispanic man
a guest
approaches
inturrupts
throws off my
train.

"I am een 207
I am looking
for fox."

"A fox?"

"Yes."

I feel
certain
it is I
who is the
idiot.

"Someone seent me
a fox."

I stare
not comrehending this
and he is
visibly
growing
impatient.

until I see
a FAX
for 207
laying
on the
desk.

i know where i'm sleeping tonight

"I know where
I'M sleeping tonight!"

he passes by
pushing a
hotel
luggage cart.

stupidly
I ask him
to repeat it.

"I SAID,
I know where
I'M sleeping tonight!"

and at that
I look back
down
to my book
because

i work here

and that sort of
dull comment
should not be
rewarded
with
eye contact.

I know,
too.
Moron.

I gave you
the keys
to the
room.

our interaction
is over, so
move
along.

a bad idea

a bad idea
is

letting your boss
know
what your stage name
would be

on the
off chance
you become a
magician.

tactless

there are two
forms of
tactless.

the first
lands in your face
shouting
barking
touting
while you try to
read
live
die
whatever.

the second
(which I am fond of)
comes in the
form of
ignoring
those who are
afflicted
with the
first sort.

potpourri

I'm sitting there
stewing over
the redundant duties
and self proclaimed
stupid questions

Something smells
a little like
Christmas potpourri

it makes me
sick
in
July