RAW

Thesis

Submitted to

The College of Arts and Sciences of the

University of Dayton

In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

The Degree of

Master of Arts in English

By

Curt Michael Greve

University of Dayton

Dayton, Ohio

August, 2011

RAW

Name: Greve, Curt Michael

Approved By:

______

Albino Carrillo, MFA Faculty Advisor Associate Professor

______

Andrew Slade, PhD Assistant Professor Director of Graduate Program in English

______

Bryan Bardine, PhD Assistant Professor Director of Teaching Assistant Training

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ABSTRACT

RAW

Name: Greve, Curt Michael University of Dayton

Advisor: Professor Albino Carrillo

Raw is a collection of poetry that has been in the making for quite some time and addresses issues the “common” man and woman are faced with on a daily basis. The poetry within this manuscript speaks to primordial urges and desires that are buried deep deep down, in places that only the imagination can explore. These visceral poems are

“raw” in the sense that they will create an immediate reaction within its readers. Raw is a collection of poetry that cannot be ignored based on its subject matter and content.

1. legs, lips, and hips

The section, legs, lips, and hips, explores the female body and the emotions it engenders in the male. In this section of Raw, the female body has given life to a set of poems that explore love, lust, sex, and desire.

2. neighbors

The section, neighbors, is a series of poems written from the hard-edged working class perspective. These are poems that are easy to relate to, especially for readers who have had jobs or bosses that they have hated. neighbors looks closely at the lives of those connected to us, as well as those we bump into on the street. neighbors is filled with poetry that leaves its readers looking next door, wondering what is going on.

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3. raw

The section entitled raw is an ancillary chapter that juts out ripe with materials that do not fit in anywhere else, because they do not have to. What is raw? However you read raw it is intended to prompt your acknowledgement that it is a collection of poetry that may not change the word, but will definitely change the way you read it.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

There have been numerous individuals who have had an influence on me and my writing over the years. They inspired and encouraged me to write in ways I had never thought of before. Their support and guidance has helped in the completion of this manuscript.

I would like to give special thanks to Professor Albino Carrillo for the past two years of critical guidance he has offered. His comments and assistance have helped my work grow tremendously over the past two years, and he has helped me look at my own writing in a new light. Without Professor Carrillo’s help, I do not think my poetry would have evolved to where it is today, thank you for believing in me. In addition, I am thankful for Professor Slade for always making me think about things from different perspectives, as well as pushing me to be a better writer. Professor Slade showed me that sometimes you have to try new things in order to succeed, and also taught me to appreciate the joys that come out of reading something as difficult and frustrating as

Beckett. We learn more through failure than we do through success. Thanks to Professor

Bardine for reading my work and putting up with and answering all my questions. Dr.

Bardine taught me a lot about teaching and how to evaluate every move you make. I’m sure I gave all my professors more than a few headaches, so I thank you for your patience and guidance.

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My special thanks also goes out to my previous poetry teachers at Kent State

University; Professor Maj Ragain, Ted Lyons, and Katherine Blackbird. Without them I would have not know the joys of reading and writing poetry, or how to take something with me from everything I see and hear. Along with my Kent State Professors, I would like to thank all of my professors in the English department at the University of Dayton, my colleagues in the English department and in UD’s Intensive English Program.

Finally, thank you to my wife, as well as family and friends who have been there to support me and listen when I needed you. Special thanks to Bryan Parsons and Arnecia

Patterson for their guidance and advice in my poetic adventure. Late night walks and playing fetch with Momiji also played there part in helping me appreciate the simple things in life. There is poetry in many things, and I will always be in your gratitude.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT…………………………………………………………………………….. iii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS……………………………………………………………… v legs, lips, and hips …...…………………………………………………………………... 1

legs, lips, and hips ...……………………………………………………………... 2 orange light ...……………………………………………………………………. 3 so I’m a caveman ………………………………………………………………... 4 when a bear’s hungry, he eats ...…………………………………………………. 5 bearcat .…………………………………………………………………………... 6 carnivorous goldfish ……………………………………………………………... 7 button ……………………………………………………………………………. 8 half gallon of milk ……………………………………………………………….. 9 standing in line at Baskin Robbins ……………………………………………... 10 this day …………………………………………………………………………. 11 spiraling staircase ………………………………………………………………. 12 the words, the line, the way ……………………………………………………. 13 swiss army girlfriend …………………………………………………………… 14 it’s not always about sex ……………………………………………………….. 15 a new bone ……………………………………………………………………... 16 matt & jackie …………………………………………………………………… 17 tune up ………………………………………………………………………….. 18 green, beige, and blue ………………………………………………………….. 19 in dreams ……………………………………………………………………….. 21 bread ……………………………………………………………………………. 22 coves …………………………………………………………………………… 23 neighbors………………………………………………………………………………... 25

the ground never looks the same ……………………………………………….. 26 ktn ……………………………………………………………………………… 27 holy fuck ……………………………………………………………………….. 29 surrender ……………………………………………………………………….. 30 general dick …………………………………………………………………….. 31 kitsune udon ……………………………………………………………………. 33 authentic ………………………………………………………………………... 35

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neighbors ……………………………………………………………………….. 37 poems like white elephants …………………………………………………….. 39 c.c. rider ………………………………………………………………………... 41 balls …………………………………………………………………………….. 43 flu party ………………………………………………………………………… 44 it’s not easy being me ………………………………………………………….. 45 imagine …………………………………………………………………………. 47 she drank deeply of life ………………………………………………………… 48 late rent check ………………………………………………………………….. 50 she sleeps like an angel ………………………………………………………… 51 red dragon ……………………………………………………………………… 52 reality is a tv show ……………………………………………………………... 53 indian lake ……………………………………………………………………… 55 beautiful girls …………………………………………………………………... 57 raw …………………………………………………………………………………….... 58

raw …………………………………………………………………………….... 59 waiting ………………………………………………………………………….. 60 absolute ………………………………………………………………………… 61 white on white ………………………………………………………………….. 62 pepper sprayed …………………………………………………………………. 64 beautiful ruin …………………………………………………………………… 66 we’re all doing time ……………………………………………………………. 67 he is the son …………………………………………………………………….. 68

BIBLIOGRAPHY ……………………………………………………………………… 69

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legs, lips, and hips

1 legs, lips, and hips aesthetically you don’t know anything about women she said after stammering out the door legs, lips, and hips all move in concordance missing me half way out the door

2 orange light sweating alone on the balcony summer heat moaning from across the way I look out the window blinds are drawn shut orange light shapes of what appears to be two bodies entangled vanilla sex over as quickly as it began flicker orange to black night closes in on the room a fulfilled couple sleep, perfect harmony

3 so I’m a caveman so I’m a caveman she says because I read Hal Sirowitz’s poems about trying to get laid I argue it’s art my conception of gender is blurred she thinks I club women and drag them home cave paintings were very intricate but yet simplistic images telling stories, stick figures with bows and arrows shooting across trying to find targets where are the images of the foragers looking for berries, leaves, edible items to help sustain the family when the hunt went sour then again why would a caveman think about the forager and what is a feminist is a feminist someone who wears a thong that reveals the curves and shapes of the body no that’s a sexist comment and I’m a pig for staring uncannily at the white skirt that hangs at her ankles translucent fabric inspiring cave paintings of my own

4 when a bear’s hungry, he eats definition of a bear from talking to other TA’s, an interpretation from the movie Swingers, and the TV show Jackass—a bear is a hypermasculinized male/female who knows what they want and go out to get it, giving in to their primordial urges—hence the saying, “when a bear’s hungry, he eats.” On the opposite end of the spectrum you have bunnies. bears come in many shapes sizes, sexes, religions, even colors you can tell a bear by his walk fangs & claws tear to perfection prey too slow, unsuspecting the perfect predator a bear takes what he wants balls hanging dragging on the ground with a rabbit poised between razor sharp fangs he is playing swatting the bunny from left to right taking what he needs fulfillment envelops desire when a bear’s hungry, he eats

5 bearcat an alley cat, rabbit between clenched teeth releases as a man, keys in hand coffee in the other he screams in horror at a pussy playing with a bunny in this game of cat and mouse the bearcat knows what fangs and claws were made for as he catches his balls on the wooden fence separating the alley from the parking lot trying to recapture the bunny not for food though, this pussy is well fed but for pleasure and the urge to use the tools he was born with

6 carnivorous goldfish

I told her I wanted a goldfish for my tank not a Beta, with long wavy fins, brilliant colors short disposition the ones that fight, like old married couples, when you put more than one in a tank already got one of those the next day I came home from work to find one dead & one wounded fish flogging around half a tail bitten off fins and gills reduced to Swiss cheese she was making a sandwich I asked if she ever listened to what I said she slowly spread the mayo as I watched but never gave me an answer soon after that I moved out gave away the tank & stand before I ended up devoured

7 button a little black button popped off the bottom of her one size too tight blue skirt

I tried to adjust the mirror black knee high socks, white panties little pink bow turned my backpack around to the front so her breasts could push tight against my back my little Honda accelerates I push the throttle; give her all she’s got the exhaust spews smoke gray, the color that implies wisdom, age, lack of movement there is movement here and friction the engine gets hot so do I as we reach our destination put her helmet under my seat say goodbye quick kiss and I’m left holding the button

8 half gallon of milk she always brought over a half gallon of milk so we’d have cereal in the morning told me that friends with benefits was a good thing we could sleep together without attachment but when she & my roommate started eating cereal together

I decided that not buying the cow because the free milk tasted different

I bought a toaster and switched to pop tarts

9 standing in line at Baskin Robbins you’re only fooling yourself she said if you think love lasts forever think about all the flavors of ice cream rocky road, chubby hubby, chunky chocolate the list could go on any given day you could choose from hundreds of flavors dating is the same today I like vanilla tomorrow I could decide to try something new the flavor of the month comes and goes so it’s like she said you’re only fooling yourself if you think love lasts forever

10 this day

I know she’s but so am I as I stare at her long, black hair flowing gently down her neck as she bends forward the curves of her chest revealed to me it’s there that I become lost and loose all focus of the task at hand

I stop wondering start believing that everything will be alright as life is full of uncertainty a woman’s heart is deeply shrouded by mystery but her cleavage shows me all I need to get me through this day

11 spiraling staircase the green floor, checkered pattern almost matches the green of the chalkboard a long time ago researchers found that green was supposed to help learn, concentrate, sooth

I can’t remember if red is supposed to make you hungry or horny she is wearing neither at least as far as I can disconcern a woman’s legs can be a spiraling staircase with a soft caress, gentle squeeze a few kind words and those legs will dance you to heaven back and forth, back and forth they rock knee supporting the key to my salvation my undoing

12 the words, the line, the way leggings that go up mid-thigh black chucks untied jet black hair hides her face while her pencil moves frantically across the page her hand reaches stays rested on her temple contemplating god knows what she doesn’t have the words to say what she wants neither do I as I rest my palm against my temple push my pencil to the page searching for the words, the line, the way

13 swiss army girlfriend she changes her outfits like the blades of a swiss army knife everyday she pulls out another, more mysterious, versatile than the last skirt and leggings she doesn’t like pants

I keep my distance she’s sharp dangerous, forbidden most women are I’ve been cut before sliced right to the bone square glasses give off a mixed signal like a magnifying glass, zooming in on me

14 it’s not always about sex it’s not always about sex she says sometimes relationships fail for more than that reason usually mine don’t she interjects her legs cross then uncross revealing to me what she means green flannel skirt inches above her knees no objections no complaints

15 a new bone like a dog you kept me on a leash used your body like a reward every time I did something good like fixing your car you slept with me every time I did something wrong like forgetting to sweep the kitchen floor after you cut my hair you slept with him relationships are like that sometimes fucking and forgetting and like a dog I was loyal long after you moved in with him even though my friends told me it was time to find a new bone

16 matt & jackie

Jackie used to have sex four times a day till she could barely walk that’s the way she wanted it but when Matt got busy & only had time for twice a day she got bored & found someone else to fill in for the other two nobody at work wanted to tell you as you worked extra shifts especially Josh but when I heard about them screwing in the parking lot of your apartment complex while you were cooking her dinner

I knew I had to tell you before you got busier & only had time for once a day

17 tune up it’s been a while she says since my cars had a tune up

I’m hoping someone could check under the hood spend some time adjusting the headlights flush the fluids cause my radiator gets hot the tires have plenty of rubber just need to get it into the garage

18 green, beige, and blue they scratch their heads shuffle feet look up at me wondering if I’m watching flipping of pages, frantic erasing nervous coughs and stares pencils clicking reloading, pushing their palms to the pages as they search for answers, words they look at me like I have them all mostly I have none there is an excess of green in this room, beige with accents of blue

Ali is to my left four days ago he got inked he scratches at the lines cut in his skin not yet sure what to tell dad when he goes back home others stare at the page 25 cent Blue Book hoping it will explode

Ali is smarter than the rest even though he never comes to class doesn’t have a book, notes, most of the time only a pen with ink

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I take a sip of my coffee in the corner of the room above the door the cross is hung perfectly in the middle so no matter which door you use you have to pass under it many things to pass in this room most of which we have to do alone

20 in dreams she told me things were changing & asked if I cared whether or not the other teachers were pleased with my performance told her I didn’t care as she gently nudged her knee between my legs rocking it back and forth told me she would get materials if I needed print out worksheets for me whatever it takes

21 bread it’s hard to smile when you hurt inside all the things you said and didn’t say red eyes forced laugh half eaten piece of bread sitting on the table it’s always about bread with her usually not enough if you have a pet you live longer they say you have someone to live for

I have her if the saying holds true and love is so strong then why am I so sad and why is she always eating my bread

22 coves in a series of small coves off the Sea of Japan people fish off man made breakers families swim in surprisingly clean clear blue water the depth changes as I swim out broken reef brushes my feet dead jelly fish float by the sun tans my back as we sit in our beach tent watching a father and two suns snorkel another family floats on rafts throwing a ball back and forth we go back in for another dip staying clear of the families she goes under holding her breath

I hold her shoulders the waves gently rock back and forth she comes up catches her breath the current tugs or bodies white tide

23 we get out of the water dry our bodies in the sun fold the tent brush the sand from our bodies

24

neighbors

25 the ground never looks the same

11:30 at night, snow clinging to the ground snot dripping the earth strangely soft for a January night dirt never fills the holes, not like it used to the grass you try so carefully to put back in the patch, just like it was never fits the mud clinging to boots takes days to harden and fall off but the ground never looks the same as you walk away from that loved one the shovel with rich brown mud, grass still clinging days after, still sitting by the door not sure what to do with it, or why you should have to do anything and no matter how hard you try to level out the spot, or plant something there the ground never looks the same

26 ktn maybe uncle Kevin wasn’t full of shit living in his old Mazda pickup truck boxes and bags stuffed in the back his life was revealed to me that day when I went with Roger to identify his body together we pulled the sheet off his pale white face sunken cheeks skin and bones he suffered for a while and possibly even longer than we knew moving from town to town thinking God would provide yet we found survival gear a knife, shovel, saw, sleeping bag was uncle Kevin camping all those years living from day to day and then Katrina sent him back with a check for being displaced he was going to buy a yacht with sonar and salvage equipment he had sea maps and charts places he was sure there was treasure searching for gold while spreading the word of God we found these in his truck along with things he had written

27 uncle Kevin had been published in a nudist magazine of all places revealing the secrets and pleasures of being naked along with a picture that is burned in my mind

we rummaged through his life in boxes learned who he was and what he spent the little money he made on when he was working a lot can be said about a man who buys quality, not quantity uncle Kevin’s boxes were like the treasures he wanted to search for as we went from box to box

I couldn’t stop myself from absorbing his life, collecting his things everything labeled initialed “KTN” we joke now if we use a “KTN” pen or notebook or use salt from a “KTN” shaker but in labeling his life he left something behind more than others and I never thought death could be as simple as a credit card or forwarding mail but I was wrong so I wonder if maybe uncle Kevin wasn’t full of shit as I look at the box where he now resides and think how ironic it is that he lived out of boxes and now in one sitting on the computer desk at holidays we try to send him on vacation to someone else’s house for a change but he likes it there it’s warm and dry and probably the longest he has ever been in one place without having to worry about money

28 holy fuck a white car burning before merging onto 675 rubber stench in the air police stand by watch it burn where’s the driver passenger are they burning inside was it arson an accident maybe they were like me writing a poem sending a message only to burn up into black smoke as others stand by helpless and tomorrow all that will be left is black, burnt grass

29 surrender surrender yourself to the text as the words unfold pages turn, the skull goes blank, then fills again the master becomes mastered, a power struggle he who can overcome becomes overcame with emotions, images, words words unlike words he has heard or dreamt in the skull understanding, misunderstanding then finally the end and the beginning mastery is no longer important ecstasy enfolds the bladder fills and finally something good happens a plot we understand

30 general dick after a hostile take over Louisiana Pacific is no longer safe new plant manager Dick Gibson with his no balls no brains approach took $1.88 an hour from the employees either take a cut or shut down was his ultimatum forty and fifty year old men and women with husbands and wives, kids to feed couldn’t afford to lose a job, learn a new skill men and women who poured their lives into a job they thought it would take care of them old bones when forced to work for less lost some spark the windows and doors rolled off the lines slower staples and hammers mysteriously disappeared lunch boxes got bigger even though there was no food to put in them

Dick decided to offer a little scare came to work in army fatigues he bought from a surplus store, good will fatigues that served someone proud to fight for a belief Dick shelled out $15 was miraculously transformed into a 5 star general without out ever firing a shot never commanded troops never passed basic training

Dick was gray haired, 5’7”, 230 lbs prancing around in army gear decided to take his own picture strategically placed it by the time clock really showed the employees who was in charge his head shot

31 not as imposing as Iron Dick hoped for Dick attached a note saying General Dixon is here to stay he is fighting Major Disorder, Sergeant Slack, Lieutenant Loaf, Captain Chaos, and Private waste

5 minutes later when the black marker fell into my hand a Hitler mustache mysteriously appeared on Dick’s face almost as quick, Dick offered a $500 reward he wanted the perpetrator to be brought to justice

I was never caught and Dick never wore his fatigues again

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きつねうどん kitsune udon

I ate some kitsune udon today it made me think of you and the boys the story about Gon gitsu ne (the little fox) everyone has to accept their fate and not always do things have happy endings when you took the boys to the soba shop they stared at the kitsune udon thought it was little Gon they never really got the story no matter how much you tried I understood tears dripped in your soba when the boys innocence showed through you asked me who is handicapped us or them this time tears dripped on my phone as I read your message

I remember playing catch with Sakaguchi, and when he missed the ball falling in the river he fell in trying to get it

Tamaru’s physical training

33

Takuji’s lying and the time you drew the red dot on Yoshiharu’s forehead taught him Namaste they taught me a lot so did you and today as the kitsune floated in my bowl I learned that some things do have happy endings

34 authentic

Bryan says this place is for real not like back home everything is made from scratch chips aren’t free, salsa made by a little old lady in the back young Mexican men in purple and blue shirts hustle from table to table speaking menu English

I ask for something hot to feel the burn something other than the Sedona sun

April and I order the same her mother’s cooking has taught her authentic we eat and laugh talk about the beautiful orange scenery cacti propped up by two by fours and ropes the waiter, Ruben, takes away my plate Bryan, still picking at April’s leftovers mid fork between her plate and his mouth

Ruben stacks her avocado green clayware on mine

shock

35 etched on Bryan’s face

Ruben asks if he is finished “lo siento guero”

April and I chuckle mostly me, growing up with Mexican friends had its advantages confused, Bryan sits face turning the color of a habanero my laughter fuels his rage April tells him it’s not that bad he storms across the room searching for the bus boy coming back empty the food is not the only thing hot and Bryan was right there’s nothing like authentic

36 neighbors laid off from the national guard he tells me smoke surrounds his face as he pulls another drag light brown hair trails down his back midway blood shot eyes as his cherry comes dangerously close to searing busted up knuckles he asks for a dollar seventy three exact toured with the Grateful Dead acid flashbacks have reminded him fights in the hood bloody knuckles tell the tale

6 a.m. drunk again as Pink Floyd blares from an open door his old lady with red hair, malnourished sits outside smoking buglers borrowed two cups of milk the other day she feeds the cats better than herself burn out he says they ask me to come down for a beer says were not friends

37 just neighbors somehow I can’t deny the logic

38 poems like white elephants Inspired by an inscription in a second hand poetry book bought online she could think of no finer gift than a book of poetry, inscribed by Maj himself on the cover there’s a nymph balls dangling as he pulls back the string of his bow what the fuck does he mean by “for John, the blue ridge” her close personal friend

I need money smokes, booze a good woman with big breasts legs I can climb like vines not a book from a magnificent man of wonderful words when have words like ever paid rent

Merry Christmas to you too I send you my love but my bookshelf’s full fridge is empty

39 something’s gotta go and that’s why I don’t own one book of poetry with words like white elephants

40 c.c. rider

8 o’clock, brush in hand walking through locked, coded doors behind a newspaper the man at the desk warns don’t touch the metal handles alarms will go off nurses clad in pink and blue plain uniforms talk of anal sex, blowjobs, coitus the stench of urine assaults my nose, I gag, shudder

Ms. Go Go dances by her room bopping and twisting to the rhythm in her head says “I’ll kill you mother fucker if you turn down my tunes” the Riverside Bandit rolls from room to room plundering pencils soda pops

Richard rolls past us threatening to kill someone he wants out of his chair cursing and shouting “fucking cunts, I’ll kill you bitches, I’ll fuck you bitches” a bag lady approaches while I paint

41 the shower room door she wants the wheel chair behind me, shiny wheels and cushy seat says she’ll set the snakes loose “get the fuck out of my way” eyes with no soul

I move paint another door a man says he’s Elvis he gyrates as he listens to a tape recorder “oh see, see see rider, see what you have done”

I see and I move my shoes stick to the floor paint dries on doors patients go out for a smoke

42 balls

James has a blue and white pool ball, number 6 in the center, it bounces above the racks Steve has a yellow speckled ball that never clears his head Mike with a green ball that is missing a chunk, it bounces sideways and William bounces a white golf ball that makes a sound like the clicking of your tongue going up and down they’ve got balls every day they bounce them up & down the isles as employees climb ladders, stock shelves, help customers with their DIY needs, every morning & night they carry their balls to the meetings to bounce them as they go over the store’s sales at the meetings these men with balls say things; things like “we need to make sales plan” “the store looks like shit” they ask, “what have you been doing?”

“playing with my balls” a simple case of monkey see monkey do

43 flu party once a year the Home Depot throws a flu party without hats, streamers, confetti, or realistic smiles they go to Sheets, buy something cheap, stale serve it to the employees who come after hours on a Sunday to dig, dive, & roll behind the racks in the store looking for missing merchandise trying to catch shrink it’s like pigs in a trough rutting behind the orange beams rolling in the dust under & between boxes, mice shit, empty packages, broken light bulbs, rusty nails, missing products that have been carelessly shoved off the shelves white shirts turned to brown blue jeans to black managers push carts around with snack cakes, chips, waters, & pops laughing with their mouths full & staying clean

44 it’s not easy being me a poem from the inner most thoughts of Charlie Sheen they made a show about me confused the audience with my likeness women flock to me the booze, the drugs god I just want to relax the green walls teak floors

I need to cut back the bags under my eyes are wearing heavy on my burden my girls are at an age where they can understand what dad does the hookers, Denise, Brooke, to name a few it wasn’t like I went Iron Mike just a couple scrapes my dad asked people to keep me in their prayers prayers don’t pay the bills my looks, like my money will fade all that will remain are the memories not that I have many tabloids are my yearbook it’s not all my fault fame is like a drug one that I can’t quit the girls keep coming younger and younger nothing make me happy the knife was meant as a joke and it really wasn’t an allergic reaction coming clean and getting clean are not easy but the patrons are waiting

45 for fresh carnage every sitcom must have an ending but for now the show must go on

46 imagine there are poets that walk among us everyday we pass them on the streets imaging the sidewalks lined with poets like Wal-Mart on Black Friday sharing words, lines instead of deals coupons and then imagine what the world would be like if their words meant as much to us as a $200 flat screen or a Wii fit what a lovely x-mas that would be

47 she drank deeply of life you only live once the old are a constant reminder youth and beauty fade wrinkles set in, joints tighten hair falls out, hearing begins to fade everything appears to lessen during a Tuesday night poetry class Phyllis, one of my favorite poets reminded me of this

Maj always told us to take a line, a phrase, an image with us, to guide us to where we wanted to go the line that Phyllis lent to me was “I’m on the latter quadrant of my life” this made me sad her life had been full of excitement stories of Russia and lying to the KGB, breastfeeding twins in backs of vans, teaching English, and going to poetry readings with Jack Kerouac stories untouched, untold will she ever live them, or tell them hell will any of us have wild adventures in Russia, meet famous poets, teach children will we go out when our flames have yet to be lit before we find who we are, tell our stories we only live once

48

Phyllis drank deeply of all that life offered her

49 late rent check we assume so many things in our day to day lives for example if a person has a job is married three children we presume they have a house two car garage, cat, and dog all wrapped up sitting cozily by the fireplace we seldom imagine they live in a shitty apartment wall to wall stained beige carpeting leaking fixtures mold growing on the walls of the off white, oh shit the paint is peeling bathroom and no late rent check can tell you that

50 she sleeps like an angel she sleeps like an angel lights beam from open windows the night closes around us street lights glow from miles away red lights on skyscrapers warn planes flashing off and on like a lullaby saying everything is safe the sky is shades of blues and purples drowning in a muck of smog clouds dance in the starless sky sirens echo from the south off the concrete youths sit outside an apartment talking and laughing in a language all their own the city night is calming with all her distractions and 3 million people the wind speaks to me tells me to go to bed the sun is coming all to soon

I fold the curtains back step inside melt into the darkness

51 red dragon walking into the bar smoke burns my eyes pushing past the drunks making my way to my friends

Ivan, the drunk Russian approaches me we converse, embrace

I walk away, drink in hand to sit with my friends

Mike asks “do you know him?” in some ways we all do

52 reality is a TV show reality is a TV show that we watch because we have evolved so far nothing left to do watching others more than ourselves like a train crashing individuals argue, fuck, win, lose playing games to get a doggie treat secret alliances back stabbing reality is a game show that has gone too far nothing left to lose too tired to fuck because you watched “Chuck” sleep online to see which side of the bed he prefers

53

24 hour access to the lives of others so their kids can watch the reruns DVD box sets only to find out mom was a whore and reality is a TV show because Mars is too far away

54 indian lake swimming in the muddy, brown water the place where fish shit, piss people too un-tanned bodies bath in the sun women, big tits asses bounce in bikinis men stare the price they pay for being natural skinny blond moms tank tops cottage cheese thighs exposed children using cigarette butts and feathers for flags on their castles a mother screams at her daughter asking if she is stupid for kicking sand on her white t-shirt

the meat market called

55 the beach where the water is not the only thing dirty

56 beautiful girls

I once heard in a movie that a beautiful girl offers the promise of a brighter future they give us hope and courage to carry on

I don’t know about that but their curves, skirts, breasts take me away to a happy place usually as they walk away

57

raw

58 raw in a time where PhD’s are placemats at Denny’s and the Grand Slam, the breakfast of the unemployed

Charlie Sheen is bigger than Jesus and sin is in everything is tainted dirty and the only way to go is raw

59 waiting she haunts my dreams desires those tight black jeans grinding my waiting wanting to pour myself into something someone who can make me feel heat

60 absolute be careful with absolutes not everywhere is like the bedroom

I don’t always come first

61 white on white white women are freaks or so it’s explained to me by a sister of color the day after 6 white chicks bared their chests in my office rubbing green to leopard skin print B& C cups show us some skin the women said we showed you ours the walls closed around me white on white walls white on white women feminism isn’t dead I was told and Charlie Sheen’s a pig not a god send

Jesus saves and patriarchy is

62 bad perplexed and confounded so it goes the struggle of being a man

63 pepper sprayed not chicano black asian native american

I’m of no color at all but their words ripe, rich, lush dictation so smooth authentic poetry that jumps off the page their words ring so true in my ears but as other white poets

I ramble sing praise upon myself my struggles gripes fucking & flirting gone wrong not of police

64 brutality or historic slaves whose sweat & tears blazed trails and whose wives have no names but “hey nigger” nature so peaceful pure as the words they use to describe life & the lack of luxury pepper sprayed by white pendejo poets whose words can do no wrong

65 beautiful ruin flirting and disaster go hand in hand as pants fall to the floor hands grope, wander, explore you asked for this she reminds me as I begin the beginning beautiful ruin

66 we’re all doing time we’re all doing time not always behind bars standing someplace sitting behind something as minutes tumble by sections of our lives not like addition a subtractive quality that once divided over a life time always counts down to nothing

67 he is the son he is the son they lock their doors at night to protect their things from three weeks out with nowhere to go he sleeps in an unlocked room he locks the front door before he turns in as they lay in bed upstairs wondering if everything will be as it was yesterday

68

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