Real Facts

They’ve stocked the break room
with old issues of fashion and tabloid magazines

so lunchtime consisted of rice and this

oh and also some Snapple

“Snapple Real Fact: Giraffes have no vocal chords”

Another real fact is that if I hear this Dave Matthews Band
soundtrack to this water conservation movie one more time
I’m going to paper-cut my eyeball with this June 2007 Glamour

All the models are wearing glasses
lips parted and looking to the right

as Dave Matthews pumps out another faux-ballad
I think of them simultaneously shitting
in the woods in the exact same pose

and they say fashion isn’t an art

another real fact is that I have to
operate the flight simulators in 15 minutes

also my boss can’t spell

Right now
there are more fat people in museums
than Sandusky, Ohio

also lunchtime is over

that’s a real fact too

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Dance of Love

While the movie plays
I draw pictures of stick figures fighting each other

the narrator talks about sturgeon
w/ the energy of a disinterested grandfather
reading his grandson a bedtime story

Stick figure number two does a quick leg sweep
to stick figure number one

stick figure number one flips back to his feet
and responds with a roundhouse that misses

sturgeon something something

I am stick figure number one

I take it in the jaw

sturgeon eggs something something

You are stick figure number two

the narrator says something about a river

I crumple up the paper and throw it out

you smell nice

but I win

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

You Can't Win

No romance

No Italian poets screaming

Or slow sonatas for broken bones

When you see it

You'll know

It's the alley cat

And sympathy for the asshole

And it's lonesome for you right now

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

new blog!

writer's block's been pretty bad lately. will get new poems up as soon as i'm out of the funk. created a new blog though: extinguishme.blogspot.com. check them shits out. link under "ribwich enthusiasts."

How to Battle an Army of Elmo Strollers

Carol eats sandwiches in her office

occasionally she’ll poke her head out
and tell me I’m doing a bad job tearing tickets

She plays solitaire on her computer

Thousand Island dressing dribbling down her chin

and she’s right

I am bad at my job

I’m writing this poem

when I should be tearing tickets

and I’m gonna steal her pickle

when she leaves the room

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Life

The wine bottles on my porch

were all good years

and now

they're good ashtrays

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Nine to Five

Belly full of ravioli
and a cigarette out back
before the hammer comes down

Taxed to death
awake in a dust-filled room

insomniacs and bus drivers
with holes in their shoes

Stealing hours like bread

while WASPs with gumball machine teeth
pump seed into corpse-skinned ex-debutantes

your wallet hammered to a cross

somewhere in North Carolina

© 2009 Lee Kitzis