The Backstory

Commissions Committees and Councils
expert formulators, creators of stories
conscious banners of testament
providing neat explanations
packaged, palatable, and positive

entire libraries devoted to deconstructing such stories
peeling off layer by layer
of elaborate exposition overgrowths
hiding dung heaps.

We each have a council proffering
monopsonic truth
seashells chattering under the surf
deciding memories.

so looking back childhoods have no shoes
and cats have no teeth
heroes battle villains
stoic homelessness survived
secret commissions assemble flawless stories
personal folklore formed and dissolved,
elaborate beach built structures.

Corporate Blood Loss

The veggie party plate molded slowly in the

bland, refrigerated innards of the office break room,

symbolizing years of cheap paper plate parties

and pepsi in plastic cups.

We wait 358 days for a lap in a snack maze

to a stale soundtrack of

“where’d you buy that new polo, Derek?”

and

“we finally finished our patio Laurie!”

Two days of freedom follow and then

back to the backstabbing antics of the snack maze.

Manager #1’s repressed homosexuality sours his sighs

Manager #2 sours the whole room with his tea-laced breath

Manager #3 moans about his trips to New Zealand and the Caribbean

SOUR SOUR SOUR SOUR!

the yogurt’s past due

the half and half curdles

the ants chain themselves to their shitty PCs for 15-20 years.

I see everyone dragging around moaning,

blood comes out of their noses.

Too much blood loss is bad for your health,

in fact, over the years, it can cause death.

 

Thoughts on Careers

Let’s make a career map
and hope to have a niche in the world
like a slender cactus shadow.
At least I understand letters
but I only write bad poetry
maybe you’ll sing with me,
take me out of loneliness to
the far side of the bitter apple,
taste of cider and sex
where at least I have one price
–although not too dear–
you’ll see I’m just like a cold cod fillet
empty eyes flopping
running out of air and purpose.
I try to run but only fuck
with a stick in my mouth
and my nose hanging
where’s a woman’s heart?
Which direction do you face
when the conductor kicks you to your knees
and you know your job is lost forever
we are the wanderers who fall from favor
to the music of jeers