NaPoWriMo 2020 #1

2 weeks of quarantine and I haven’t written poetry in months.

When the poetic mechanisms are this rusty

every line is a violent contrivance.

Every word chokes on my keyboard.

I hate this poem already

and I will hate many more.

New Game: The Charles Bukowski Simulator

Have you ever wanted to be Charles Bukowski for a day? Well now you can with The Charles Bukowski Simulator.

It’s a weird premise for a game, admittedly. But there are probably enough weirdos out there who want a piece of this.

Follow the linked picture to play this weird game.

https://int-litstudio.itch.io/bukowski-simulator

/wal-mart birds/

I try to pants Jess while
she’s cleaning
and she tells me no
so I take out the garbage
which is mostly coffee grounds
because that’s the bulk
of our diet.

Outside it’s warm.
It’s one of those warmedover
Texas evenings
that feels like somebody
just turned off the skillet

An ambulance blairs
down Lamar
and El Pollo Rico
is running low on customers
The drive thru sign reads
VE
RU
and I wonder how it came
to be that all drive throughs
became drive thrus

The grackles gather
near a dumpster.
A family dinner.
Jessi’s sister calls them
“Wal-mart birds”

I take the trash to the dumpster
and think about how long
it’s been since I last
slept outside
and how glad I am
to not have to fight
wal-mart birds
for dinner.

I go back inside
because I can do that now
and make myself some more
coffee.

/AN ANGER CALLED RESOLVE/

When you were born everything was already here and they said, “this is the way things are.”

When you saw things were broken and harming 80% of everybody, they said, “This is the way things are. There is nothing else.”

Then you studied history and you saw that things used to be completely different than they are now and you said “This means things could be different than they are now!”

And they said “This is the way things are. History is dead. And if you try to change it, we’ll fucking murder you.”

So a deep anger hardened in your chest and you called it Resolve. And you began to meet other people who felt the same. And together you made plans for something better.

/dreamz necrotic/

for Rhie

Once we were without food
(more than once)
There was food around
in grocery stores
kitchens
restaurants
dumpsters
there was food around
but we had none
and we looked upon the bounty
which was not ours
and saw holy in it

We used to sleep outside
on concrete and pavement
in the dirt and grass
There were beds around
in mattress stores
in bedrooms
in jails
but we had no beds
Now we sleep in beds every night
and each night
it seems almost too comfortable

We used to be free and full of horror
scraping busted roads with extended thumbs
taking on midnight with whatever
chemicals Dionysus endowed
and whenever dreams came
they were half-rotted and not without scream

Nowadays our bellies are full
and you spend your time
getting other people beds and food
while I spend all my time
wringing out the poisons inflicted
by necrotic dreams

Everything is better now
they say
and I guess we should believe them
what do we know?