Thursday, January 13, 2011

eighty-five degrees in january

A little intro for today's entry... this is the #1 requested poem I do at readings. Most of the time I have to adjust the language, as there are some not-safe-for-everywhere words. This may be the only work in which I've used a mid-fix. Enjoy!

* * *

It’s eighty-five degrees in January!

Sweat drips down my forehead

hanging gently like a princess

in some fairy tale story

climbing down from a tower

yet afraid to drop-pulled out of the pocked-up

parking lot-cursing my putrid luck-

can’t make the sell-

can’t spend the cash-

can’t seem content with

the tent under which I’ve crawled

on this Canterbury-esque trip to camp

in an unconquerable crevasse so cramped-

a canyon for my crying mind.

Bought Diamond Shamrock at

a dollar-one and it failed to quench

even the slightest inch

of my car’s ravenous yearnings-

fifteen dollars down to once more be empty-

depleting my meager earnings.

Tank vacated and wasted in a vast expanse in

a state where nobody strives to advance-

like Utah maybe or Idaho-

who the hell goes there anyhow? God knows!

Vapid excuses for vacation rendezvous!

My spent vehicle’s prostrations vehement-

please pardon me again as I vent-

it’s eighty-five degrees in fucking January!

What is it with the weather in this place?

Who the hell loosed the devil so early?

That loser- that Lucifer-and clued him into my location?

Could swallow forty pills a night-

twice that at morning’s light-

and still there’s no tow in sight to airlift my listless body-

cackling like a lush as I’m taken aloft-

eyes alight for a destination-or a sacred duty.

I’m searching for something

around which to bend my soul-

sequential to a vehicle contrived

to eschew this void’s control-liberated from probation

in this polyester tent any longer than I have to be pent

and it’s eighty-fucking-five degrees in January!

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