making friends
an acquaintances birthday was a
chance to get to know some people
an attempt at being a social person once more
shy and outgoing
dud and life of the party
went to the bar after watching a
john wayne special
walking like
the duke
missed the people
talked to gay foreigners over drinks
rockabilly open mic
left for the place where one person knows my name
dollar beers and pool with queers
this one was
kissing me while
losing the game for us
time to leave i saw
managed to find the birthday crew
some too drunk to recognize me
perhaps they dont know me anyway
hulloo hullay
invited to a house for refreshments
then the night
shatters like bottles
memory scattered on black pavement
in a parking lot
shirtless violent person
protect the weak woman his noble cause
called me a
mother fucker pervert creep
(all relative terms)
called the cops
threw me to the gravel
tore my shirt
i walked away without offering resistance
the night was humid
the walk home, like earlier -
dim street lamps set a
glow
out and around the trees
wet reflection of vapors
feeling mistreated, i gave
the finger
to an empty town
until my arm became sore
then walked
cut
bruised
denim jacket
low brow
to the end of the street
stood on the corner
4 police cars
"whats the matter, sir"
- i feel upset and have been wronged, sir
"do we have a problem here"
- i could have gone home but decided to stand here.
"what has happened"
- nothing that can be changed. i am going home
"see that you do"
i do not fight when provoked
i do not cringe when fondled
i do not argue with police
i have a headache
my ass hurts
i find new cuts here and there
i may stay home tonight
3 Comments:
is this true? did this happen to you?
why was he protecting the "weak woman"?
noble cause...he must be unsure, insecure with himself, his actions?
the "nothing can be changed" part in the dialogue with the cops is strange...eerie in that you feel so hopeless. when my urge- when ive been wronged- would be to explain myself, get the story right, and eventually would want to retaliate.
whether or not thats how you felt- like nothing can be changed and now youll stay at home- it makes the poem!
kind of prose, no?
(i dont really know the difference bcus really poetry can be anything)
>?>?>???
the whole 'weak woman', 'noble cause' thing was my perception of his view of himself and the situation. the way he was presenting himself. the whole episode was strange. i hardly said anything to the guy; mostly looked at him. my only retaliation was the 'finger to an empty town' part, which was enough to satisfy me.
and yes, poetry can be anything. the twentieth century destroyed the neccesity of traditional form in literature art and music, among other things. so where do we go from here? the great thing about such things is that the possibility for discussion is endless. all questions will never be answered, there will always something new and surprising. there is much to look forward to
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