Most human beings dream of flying
while the fly dreams of a pile of shit
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The Best Job on the Planet
I wake up at 3 p.m.
avoiding all the daytime judge shows
with just enough time for a cup of coffee and a quick peek
at the women in scarves at the local produce stand
before the reruns
and I have no problem with taking a beer shit
as the world rages outside
disappointment in coffee bars
elation in drugstores
murder stocks a person of the week
Mark bought the good kind of toilet paper
double-roll with aloe
that’s the great part about having another drunk as a roommate
always good toilet paper
I call in
to file for more unemployment
cook brussel sprouts
check baseball trades
and crack an Old Style
I’ll get a job when I have to start using the store brand
that’s about the only literary advice I can give
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
avoiding all the daytime judge shows
with just enough time for a cup of coffee and a quick peek
at the women in scarves at the local produce stand
before the reruns
and I have no problem with taking a beer shit
as the world rages outside
disappointment in coffee bars
elation in drugstores
murder stocks a person of the week
Mark bought the good kind of toilet paper
double-roll with aloe
that’s the great part about having another drunk as a roommate
always good toilet paper
I call in
to file for more unemployment
cook brussel sprouts
check baseball trades
and crack an Old Style
I’ll get a job when I have to start using the store brand
that’s about the only literary advice I can give
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
My Family
We’re at a Cuban restaurant on North Avenue
my mom is staring at the plantains and commenting
on how much they look like little potato pancakes
and my dad is telling the owner why she needs to charge
a corkage fee so he can bring his own wine
and my brother’s telling me I need to clean my glasses
and we get into an argument about the Hawaiian Punch guy
and my family’s laughing at me cus I remembered him
having antlers on his head and my dad goes “no it was a
porkpie hat” and then my mom and dad start complaining about
my brother needing to find an apartment on campus in
time “I’m gonna say this once and then let it go…”
which my dad says with everything he complains about
repeatedly and then my mom starts in on how she
can’t believe my aunt and uncle took a trip to
Tokyo for a friend’s wedding my aunt and uncle
who have a mansion in Glenview and another somewhere
in Colorado and my dad says “because they can”
and my mom says “but I just don’t get it. I would
never go to an employee’s wedding in Tokyo” and my
dad says “well they’re friends” and my mom goes
“well I still don’t get it” and my dad goes “well I
guess that’s just one of life’s great mysteries”
but my mom says she still doesn’t get it
and my dad closes his eyes and breathes deeply
and we go and my mom makes my brother
straighten the blinds each one individually so they’re
all perfectly even and I ask “why is she making you
do that?” and my brother goes “because she’s fucking crazy”
and my dad makes my brother and I haul a hundred-pound
disassembled wine rack downstairs and he’s too tired to
take me home so my brother takes me home and we talk
the whole ride there about poker and getting laid
in college and he drops me off I go in crack open
a bottle of whiskey take a stiff shot and write this poem
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
my mom is staring at the plantains and commenting
on how much they look like little potato pancakes
and my dad is telling the owner why she needs to charge
a corkage fee so he can bring his own wine
and my brother’s telling me I need to clean my glasses
and we get into an argument about the Hawaiian Punch guy
and my family’s laughing at me cus I remembered him
having antlers on his head and my dad goes “no it was a
porkpie hat” and then my mom and dad start complaining about
my brother needing to find an apartment on campus in
time “I’m gonna say this once and then let it go…”
which my dad says with everything he complains about
repeatedly and then my mom starts in on how she
can’t believe my aunt and uncle took a trip to
Tokyo for a friend’s wedding my aunt and uncle
who have a mansion in Glenview and another somewhere
in Colorado and my dad says “because they can”
and my mom says “but I just don’t get it. I would
never go to an employee’s wedding in Tokyo” and my
dad says “well they’re friends” and my mom goes
“well I still don’t get it” and my dad goes “well I
guess that’s just one of life’s great mysteries”
but my mom says she still doesn’t get it
and my dad closes his eyes and breathes deeply
and we go and my mom makes my brother
straighten the blinds each one individually so they’re
all perfectly even and I ask “why is she making you
do that?” and my brother goes “because she’s fucking crazy”
and my dad makes my brother and I haul a hundred-pound
disassembled wine rack downstairs and he’s too tired to
take me home so my brother takes me home and we talk
the whole ride there about poker and getting laid
in college and he drops me off I go in crack open
a bottle of whiskey take a stiff shot and write this poem
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Noble Square
Latinas w/ their baby carriages
and the birds chirping
like assholes
at the end of this cigar
as the sun goes down
w/ balls the size
of cantaloupes
and pigeons
chasing each other
past a dirty American flag
and the cops chasing
the thundering engines
of souped-up
shitty cars
as the sun goes down
in a boring war
in every steeple
and dog
in every broken piece of furniture
ice cream truck
and river rat gnawing at wire
we’ll die
the same deaths
as all these things
not having won
not having lost
but having a cigar
while the birds chirp
like assholes
in Noble Square
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
and the birds chirping
like assholes
at the end of this cigar
as the sun goes down
w/ balls the size
of cantaloupes
and pigeons
chasing each other
past a dirty American flag
and the cops chasing
the thundering engines
of souped-up
shitty cars
as the sun goes down
in a boring war
in every steeple
and dog
in every broken piece of furniture
ice cream truck
and river rat gnawing at wire
we’ll die
the same deaths
as all these things
not having won
not having lost
but having a cigar
while the birds chirp
like assholes
in Noble Square
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Poetry and Poker
While smokestacks fart in Hammond, Indiana
a gambler gets busted on the nut flush
Looking at my typewriter
with dust-bunnies in its crevices
a busted M key
a missing =+ key
she’s been good to me
so I try anyway
it’ll get me more broke than laid
He buys in for another hand
be good to me he begs
while the old black men in fedoras
the Chinese ATMs
the old Jewish pros
the Italian contractors
people from all over the map
wait for their table
The good ones know
you gotta wait for it
The bad ones
force it
and get something like this
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
a gambler gets busted on the nut flush
Looking at my typewriter
with dust-bunnies in its crevices
a busted M key
a missing =+ key
she’s been good to me
so I try anyway
it’ll get me more broke than laid
He buys in for another hand
be good to me he begs
while the old black men in fedoras
the Chinese ATMs
the old Jewish pros
the Italian contractors
people from all over the map
wait for their table
The good ones know
you gotta wait for it
The bad ones
force it
and get something like this
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Constipated in Gobles, Michigan
I was constipated for more than a week
and I figured if anything was going to cure it
it would be Gobles, Michigan
so I took the Outlaw Bible of American Poetry to my parents’ country washroom
and read pretentious beats
dull surrealists
and whiney NY punks
hoping that would get my bowels going
still nothing
so I looked out the window
at the flowers
and the dragonflies
and the trees
and tried
some sort of know-nothing
Zen will
on the Hot Pocket
from last Sunday
just farts and “outlaw” poetry
finally giving up and accepting my fate
to be one of many poets to have died filled with his own shit
I dog-eared Corso
and called it a day
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
and I figured if anything was going to cure it
it would be Gobles, Michigan
so I took the Outlaw Bible of American Poetry to my parents’ country washroom
and read pretentious beats
dull surrealists
and whiney NY punks
hoping that would get my bowels going
still nothing
so I looked out the window
at the flowers
and the dragonflies
and the trees
and tried
some sort of know-nothing
Zen will
on the Hot Pocket
from last Sunday
just farts and “outlaw” poetry
finally giving up and accepting my fate
to be one of many poets to have died filled with his own shit
I dog-eared Corso
and called it a day
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Whatever it Means
At night
I lay awake
staring at the faded plastic star on my ceiling
that gives the illusion of night
left by the people
that lived here before me
I think they were neo-hippies
and one of them owed child support
sometimes I think of wars throughout history
sometimes of women that passed me at work
or my neighbor, Dave
an obnoxious guy
but a good soul
in his basement apartment
lonesome
eating macaroni
his girlfriend dying of M.S.
in Grand Rapids
and sometimes
it keeps me up
and sometimes
I fall asleep fast
and then
there’re those nights
where I drink scotch
to the sound of the space heater
those nights
where I could care less
about the people on the street
and Dave is making desperate calls to her on the phone
while his cat shits in the bathtub
those nights come
a little closer
to whatever it means
and they don’t come
often enough
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
I lay awake
staring at the faded plastic star on my ceiling
that gives the illusion of night
left by the people
that lived here before me
I think they were neo-hippies
and one of them owed child support
sometimes I think of wars throughout history
sometimes of women that passed me at work
or my neighbor, Dave
an obnoxious guy
but a good soul
in his basement apartment
lonesome
eating macaroni
his girlfriend dying of M.S.
in Grand Rapids
and sometimes
it keeps me up
and sometimes
I fall asleep fast
and then
there’re those nights
where I drink scotch
to the sound of the space heater
those nights
where I could care less
about the people on the street
and Dave is making desperate calls to her on the phone
while his cat shits in the bathtub
those nights come
a little closer
to whatever it means
and they don’t come
often enough
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
A Short Political Poem
Our enemies
are pigeons
mosquitos
spinach
and Mexicans
We will build a fence
700 miles long
and line it w/ nukes
and spinach detectors
so when the Mexicans come
w/ their flamethrowers and guns
shooting mosquitos at us
and sending pigeons into the air
they’ll know that we stand strong
as one nation
under a God
who rings my bell
and leaves pamphlets
under my door
at 9:30 in the morning
that tell me
this country’s going to hell
because God
is one very clever Mexican
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
are pigeons
mosquitos
spinach
and Mexicans
We will build a fence
700 miles long
and line it w/ nukes
and spinach detectors
so when the Mexicans come
w/ their flamethrowers and guns
shooting mosquitos at us
and sending pigeons into the air
they’ll know that we stand strong
as one nation
under a God
who rings my bell
and leaves pamphlets
under my door
at 9:30 in the morning
that tell me
this country’s going to hell
because God
is one very clever Mexican
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
The Girl at the Hollywood Grill at 6 A.M.
She said
she was from Munster, Indiana
and people don’t treat
each other
like this
in Munster, Indiana
and
it was her 21st birthday
how could we
and I
wanted to tell her
about the powder blue
stuffed dog
I found
laying dead
and dirty
in the middle
of the subway tracks
and my weeks
of not eating
but Steve
just gave her
his finished plate
and said
“Happy Birthday.”
that poor girl
from the Midwest
drunk
in Chicago
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
she was from Munster, Indiana
and people don’t treat
each other
like this
in Munster, Indiana
and
it was her 21st birthday
how could we
and I
wanted to tell her
about the powder blue
stuffed dog
I found
laying dead
and dirty
in the middle
of the subway tracks
and my weeks
of not eating
but Steve
just gave her
his finished plate
and said
“Happy Birthday.”
that poor girl
from the Midwest
drunk
in Chicago
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Little Things
After a long day at the museum
kids screaming in my ear and the hot piss smell
of the 3-D theatre washroom wafting into my ticket post
I sit on my bed with nothing on but a pair of jeans
take a good drink of an ice cold Coke in front of my old
trusty AC set to 67 while outside it’s 85 degrees
and the murder rate goes up for lack of anything better to do
in the dumbfuck streets and girls in sundresses breeze past
whooping drunks and the cop cars slow down at every Mexican
and the stand on Ashland/Division sells elotes to emaciated
bike messengers and it’s times like this
when you have a second wind and you could care less about pussy
and the stock market and sleep and the tornadoes touch down
in Dalton Illinois and the gunrunners run
and the TV and the radio and the teacher all talk about nothing
and the war is good at times like this
in the dumbfuck streets
they murder each other over nothing
as you lay back
and chew on the ice
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
kids screaming in my ear and the hot piss smell
of the 3-D theatre washroom wafting into my ticket post
I sit on my bed with nothing on but a pair of jeans
take a good drink of an ice cold Coke in front of my old
trusty AC set to 67 while outside it’s 85 degrees
and the murder rate goes up for lack of anything better to do
in the dumbfuck streets and girls in sundresses breeze past
whooping drunks and the cop cars slow down at every Mexican
and the stand on Ashland/Division sells elotes to emaciated
bike messengers and it’s times like this
when you have a second wind and you could care less about pussy
and the stock market and sleep and the tornadoes touch down
in Dalton Illinois and the gunrunners run
and the TV and the radio and the teacher all talk about nothing
and the war is good at times like this
in the dumbfuck streets
they murder each other over nothing
as you lay back
and chew on the ice
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
How to Live on 20 Dollars a Week
I’ve stopped keeping track of my finances
I’ll know I’m fucked if I get a letter from the gas company
They’ve cut back on my work hours
and I’m 90% sure my bank account’s overdrawn
so I’ve been doing nothing but eating bread and beans
and watching the blonde joggers w/ big asses
a delicious cup of three-dollar vacuum-packed faux-Cuban coffee (about a pound)
and I feel sorry for the people that don’t know the pleasures in being broke
My mom worries and tries to set me up
Jewish
Italian
it doesn’t matter
I tell her not to
she nods and does it anyway
Sprouts are good
just 1 dollar for a pound
Borscht too
50 cents for a baseball-sized beet
1.50 for the loaf of bread to dip it in
Beans especially
80 cents a can
1 dollar for tortillas
Meat
¼ pound thin cheap steak strips for 1.30
A man can eat well on 20 dollars a week if he applies himself
I watch the Mexican father
(of at least two I’ve seen)
across the way
lean his arm out the window of his modest brick home
about the size of two garages
he’s holding a cigarette
he is tired
as most Mexicans are
since we make them do all the work
and then complain about it
it is a beautiful day
he doesn’t give a shit about the sun
a good porterhouse crosses my mind
but I will finely dice my steak strips
add them to my brown beans
and use one slice of sourdough for dipping
and I will forget about it
like I’ll forget about the blonde joggers w/ big asses
even though I want them
like I want a steak
His cigarette’s finished
he closes the window
it’s time for his dinner too
and we both feel sorry
for the people that don’t know the pleasures in being broke
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
I’ll know I’m fucked if I get a letter from the gas company
They’ve cut back on my work hours
and I’m 90% sure my bank account’s overdrawn
so I’ve been doing nothing but eating bread and beans
and watching the blonde joggers w/ big asses
a delicious cup of three-dollar vacuum-packed faux-Cuban coffee (about a pound)
and I feel sorry for the people that don’t know the pleasures in being broke
My mom worries and tries to set me up
Jewish
Italian
it doesn’t matter
I tell her not to
she nods and does it anyway
Sprouts are good
just 1 dollar for a pound
Borscht too
50 cents for a baseball-sized beet
1.50 for the loaf of bread to dip it in
Beans especially
80 cents a can
1 dollar for tortillas
Meat
¼ pound thin cheap steak strips for 1.30
A man can eat well on 20 dollars a week if he applies himself
I watch the Mexican father
(of at least two I’ve seen)
across the way
lean his arm out the window of his modest brick home
about the size of two garages
he’s holding a cigarette
he is tired
as most Mexicans are
since we make them do all the work
and then complain about it
it is a beautiful day
he doesn’t give a shit about the sun
a good porterhouse crosses my mind
but I will finely dice my steak strips
add them to my brown beans
and use one slice of sourdough for dipping
and I will forget about it
like I’ll forget about the blonde joggers w/ big asses
even though I want them
like I want a steak
His cigarette’s finished
he closes the window
it’s time for his dinner too
and we both feel sorry
for the people that don’t know the pleasures in being broke
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
In Defense of Bob Howry
Bob Howry got roughed up again last night
4 earned runs
no outs
and they booed him mercilessly
they cracked their peanuts and drank their beer
and booed him
and he hung his head and took that long walk to the dugout
that cliché 5.50 e.r.a. in mid-September walk to the dugout
that’s better than all the poets’ faux-empathy for the dead in East-Timor
I didn’t boo
Bob Howry is a placement pitcher
he has one good pitch
a fastball
when he’s on
he’s painting the corners at 95
when he’s off
it’s 91 over the middle
Bob Howry knew this
and 4 people out of 38,000 knew this
and they didn’t boo
I call these people poets
and the other 37,996 are just people that write
that’s baseball
that’s poetry
I prefer Bob Howry
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
4 earned runs
no outs
and they booed him mercilessly
they cracked their peanuts and drank their beer
and booed him
and he hung his head and took that long walk to the dugout
that cliché 5.50 e.r.a. in mid-September walk to the dugout
that’s better than all the poets’ faux-empathy for the dead in East-Timor
I didn’t boo
Bob Howry is a placement pitcher
he has one good pitch
a fastball
when he’s on
he’s painting the corners at 95
when he’s off
it’s 91 over the middle
Bob Howry knew this
and 4 people out of 38,000 knew this
and they didn’t boo
I call these people poets
and the other 37,996 are just people that write
that’s baseball
that’s poetry
I prefer Bob Howry
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Kelly
In the morning
when we pop acetaminophen
and kiss
over the glass
of stolen cars
like crystal hail
and cockroaches
hump in the park
Puerto Rican gangbangers
light off fireworks
on the corner
and dream of a gentle God
and I stare
at your polka-dot underwear
and pale thighs
and am happy w/ Irish girls
because
they’ll steal three more cars
on Blackhawk Ave.
tomorrow night
and the cockroaches
will always find each other
through the concrete cracks
and we’ll grow tired of each other
and become dust
under condominiums
where couples will kiss
‘til the factories of Chicago
end up in the sea
Kelly
it’s just good
to split a bottle
of really crappy Canadian whiskey
w/ you
Saturday night
after the Buzzcocks show
in the scriptures
of some gentle God
on Greenview
and Blackhawk Ave.
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
when we pop acetaminophen
and kiss
over the glass
of stolen cars
like crystal hail
and cockroaches
hump in the park
Puerto Rican gangbangers
light off fireworks
on the corner
and dream of a gentle God
and I stare
at your polka-dot underwear
and pale thighs
and am happy w/ Irish girls
because
they’ll steal three more cars
on Blackhawk Ave.
tomorrow night
and the cockroaches
will always find each other
through the concrete cracks
and we’ll grow tired of each other
and become dust
under condominiums
where couples will kiss
‘til the factories of Chicago
end up in the sea
Kelly
it’s just good
to split a bottle
of really crappy Canadian whiskey
w/ you
Saturday night
after the Buzzcocks show
in the scriptures
of some gentle God
on Greenview
and Blackhawk Ave.
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Monday, September 15, 2008
Customer Service
I saw this lady
in aisle 19
and asked her
if she was finding everything
alright
and she said sort of
and I said
well that’s half the fun
isn’t it
and she laughed
a customer’s laugh
and my bosses looked at me
and smiled
and it made me feel good
like I had done my job
and then I felt
unimaginable terror
I need some sleep
I thought
as she took her gin to the register
we all
need some sleep
as my bosses smiled
worse than the addict in the street
or a bad game show
at every hardware store
kitchen appliance store
bodega
worse
than any war
and that’s
half the fun
isn’t it
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
in aisle 19
and asked her
if she was finding everything
alright
and she said sort of
and I said
well that’s half the fun
isn’t it
and she laughed
a customer’s laugh
and my bosses looked at me
and smiled
and it made me feel good
like I had done my job
and then I felt
unimaginable terror
I need some sleep
I thought
as she took her gin to the register
we all
need some sleep
as my bosses smiled
worse than the addict in the street
or a bad game show
at every hardware store
kitchen appliance store
bodega
worse
than any war
and that’s
half the fun
isn’t it
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I'm Changing Bartenders
I guess you were looking for a poet
who quoted Strindberg and Shakespeare
and were probably pretty disappointed
when you saw me on my eighth PBR
watching the White Sox/Astros World Series game
and swearing under my breath
I guess you thought of classical music
and men w/ five o’ clock shadows and peacoats
and were probably pretty disappointed
when you saw me in an Eddie Bauer jacket
swearing at the pitcher and burping
and I’d like to think
when I got up to pee
for the fourth time
in one hour
you told yourself
you’d keep looking
but I am a poet
like you’re a bartender
this is the best drink I’ve got
and that is really really sad
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
who quoted Strindberg and Shakespeare
and were probably pretty disappointed
when you saw me on my eighth PBR
watching the White Sox/Astros World Series game
and swearing under my breath
I guess you thought of classical music
and men w/ five o’ clock shadows and peacoats
and were probably pretty disappointed
when you saw me in an Eddie Bauer jacket
swearing at the pitcher and burping
and I’d like to think
when I got up to pee
for the fourth time
in one hour
you told yourself
you’d keep looking
but I am a poet
like you’re a bartender
this is the best drink I’ve got
and that is really really sad
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Unemployment
I’m applying to jobs everyday
bullshit applications
just so I can collect a government check
one was to Wal-Mart
and another was to a Red Lobster in the ghetto
People suggest things to me
I should be an editor
or a barista
Starbucks they tell me
has great benefits
but I’d much rather play internet poker
in cum-stained lounging sweats
thinking of creative ways
to pay for my health insurance
because it’s eight degrees outside
and every job is the same
I apply to a hardware store
and a shitty Contemporary American restaurant chain
where they call the bosses “coaches”
and the hourly employees “champs”
and if any of these employers
calls me back
I’ll tell them
I’m in the middle of a hand
and hang up
and it’ll be
our little secret
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
bullshit applications
just so I can collect a government check
one was to Wal-Mart
and another was to a Red Lobster in the ghetto
People suggest things to me
I should be an editor
or a barista
Starbucks they tell me
has great benefits
but I’d much rather play internet poker
in cum-stained lounging sweats
thinking of creative ways
to pay for my health insurance
because it’s eight degrees outside
and every job is the same
I apply to a hardware store
and a shitty Contemporary American restaurant chain
where they call the bosses “coaches”
and the hourly employees “champs”
and if any of these employers
calls me back
I’ll tell them
I’m in the middle of a hand
and hang up
and it’ll be
our little secret
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Another Day on the Job
I close my eyes
Scarlett Johansson’s giving me a back rub
and the St. Louis Cardinals are all dead
I open them
a gentleman wants to know how to get the plastic off the top of his tequila bottle
He is very large
I tell him he should rip it
this is the correct answer
and it makes him angry
I close my eyes
I’ve got my best suit on
people are buying me tickets to France for some reason
I go
and fall in love w/ a cognac distiller’s daughter
or Audrey Tautou
we make love
wet from the rain
and skinny dipping in the river of the louvre
I open them
my balls are huge
and there’s 9 stolen liters of Johnnie Walker Black today
a gentleman is screaming about salami to the customer service desk
he is a 50-year-old trust fund kid
they let him out of the mental institution on weekends
I close my eyes
I’m playing 7-card Stud with John Coltrane
We finish and have a steak
then Scarlett Johansson shows up and gives us a back rub
I open my eyes
I am writing this on the toilet
I am not a romantic
I close them
the war is over
we lost
and people are having gasoline orgies
I open my eyes
That drunk couple’s back again
they’re giggling at the sakes
Jesus christ
go home
I close them
You’re waiting in a sundress
I tell you the problem
you tell me the answer
I don’t remember the words
but I remember you look good
I open my eyes
it’s 9 o’ clock
I punch out
go home
close them
and go to sleep
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Scarlett Johansson’s giving me a back rub
and the St. Louis Cardinals are all dead
I open them
a gentleman wants to know how to get the plastic off the top of his tequila bottle
He is very large
I tell him he should rip it
this is the correct answer
and it makes him angry
I close my eyes
I’ve got my best suit on
people are buying me tickets to France for some reason
I go
and fall in love w/ a cognac distiller’s daughter
or Audrey Tautou
we make love
wet from the rain
and skinny dipping in the river of the louvre
I open them
my balls are huge
and there’s 9 stolen liters of Johnnie Walker Black today
a gentleman is screaming about salami to the customer service desk
he is a 50-year-old trust fund kid
they let him out of the mental institution on weekends
I close my eyes
I’m playing 7-card Stud with John Coltrane
We finish and have a steak
then Scarlett Johansson shows up and gives us a back rub
I open my eyes
I am writing this on the toilet
I am not a romantic
I close them
the war is over
we lost
and people are having gasoline orgies
I open my eyes
That drunk couple’s back again
they’re giggling at the sakes
Jesus christ
go home
I close them
You’re waiting in a sundress
I tell you the problem
you tell me the answer
I don’t remember the words
but I remember you look good
I open my eyes
it’s 9 o’ clock
I punch out
go home
close them
and go to sleep
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Day Job
Drinking cheap faux-Cuban coffee
trying to stay awake for my new job
at the Museum of Science and Industry
I’m overdrawn $90 on my bank account
which for a poet
is pretty good
There’s a private hell on every face on the train at 7 a.m.
single Latina mothers on their way to the Cinnabon stand
lonely old men with permanent hard-ons leaving the peepshow
day runners with giant headphones listening to Herbie Hancock
or Carlos Santana or books on tape and me going to my first day
at the museum and all we know is that we all hate this
They’ll show me how to take tickets today
while families share popsicles quickly
and dads line their baby carriages up
in neat rows and when the last weird European with a backpack
makes his way into the 3:45 showing of Dinos Alive!
I’ll try to figure it out for us
if you try to
while the fat kid brings his danish back
or the microchip company bottoms out
or you unsuccessfully try for sleep
another night of mopping up sperm
and we’ll meet back on the train tomorrow
at 7 a.m.
silently exchanging notes
like a book club
that can’t escape
the worst novel ever written
like a study group
without funds
Tomorrow
they’re going to show me how to operate the flight simulator
and if there’s time
make announcements
and I’ll nod
and smile my way
right past zero
until I make rent
if you try to
while the war veteran complains about his cruller
or the microchip company gets bought out by another microchip company
or you get two hours of sweaty sleep
blown out pussies and dicks in your dreams
but hey
it’s a living
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
trying to stay awake for my new job
at the Museum of Science and Industry
I’m overdrawn $90 on my bank account
which for a poet
is pretty good
There’s a private hell on every face on the train at 7 a.m.
single Latina mothers on their way to the Cinnabon stand
lonely old men with permanent hard-ons leaving the peepshow
day runners with giant headphones listening to Herbie Hancock
or Carlos Santana or books on tape and me going to my first day
at the museum and all we know is that we all hate this
They’ll show me how to take tickets today
while families share popsicles quickly
and dads line their baby carriages up
in neat rows and when the last weird European with a backpack
makes his way into the 3:45 showing of Dinos Alive!
I’ll try to figure it out for us
if you try to
while the fat kid brings his danish back
or the microchip company bottoms out
or you unsuccessfully try for sleep
another night of mopping up sperm
and we’ll meet back on the train tomorrow
at 7 a.m.
silently exchanging notes
like a book club
that can’t escape
the worst novel ever written
like a study group
without funds
Tomorrow
they’re going to show me how to operate the flight simulator
and if there’s time
make announcements
and I’ll nod
and smile my way
right past zero
until I make rent
if you try to
while the war veteran complains about his cruller
or the microchip company gets bought out by another microchip company
or you get two hours of sweaty sleep
blown out pussies and dicks in your dreams
but hey
it’s a living
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
8:54 A.M.
Insomnia’s back again
talking heads talking war and cholesterol
people smile over Sanka
get the Accuweather Entertainment Weekly a bagel
Tekrit goes boom
and they laugh
at Marmaduke
Quick check of the horoscope
a quick shit
the burning of Rome
she forgot to fill the tank with gas
good morning assholes
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
talking heads talking war and cholesterol
people smile over Sanka
get the Accuweather Entertainment Weekly a bagel
Tekrit goes boom
and they laugh
at Marmaduke
Quick check of the horoscope
a quick shit
the burning of Rome
she forgot to fill the tank with gas
good morning assholes
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Racial Harmony
It was Thursday
hot
with nothing to do
so I took a cup of iced coffee onto the porch
and sat down to read
or I should say re-read
some Ferlinghetti
getting about three pages into it
before remembering why
I didn’t like Ferlinghetti
when I heard a yell
and a gentle screech
and looked down to see a fat Mexican
getting out of a plumbing van
a black homeless guy coming towards him
saying “You almost hit him!”
and in front of the van was an elderly homeless white guy
asleep in front of a recycling can in the alley
“You almost hit him!” the black guy said
“He shouldn’t have been sleeping in the middle of the alley!”
the fat Mexican said
and the elderly white bum just slept
the black bum saying you almost hit him
the fat Mexican saying he shouldn’t have been sleeping there
and the white bum sleeping there in front of the recycling can
till finally the black bum left only to turn around
and head back towards the fat Mexican plumber who was entering his gate
and apologetically say “You probably didn’t see him”
“No I didn’t” said the Mexican
and that was that
the fat Mexican went home
the black bum left
and the white bum slept
and Ferlinghetti was still terrible
and the old white bum slept
for another five minutes
got up
puked
took a piss
and sat back down
till another neighbor came by and said
“You should go”
so the old guy walked down the alley
to the next one
and the other neighbor
took his groceries in
and fixed a sandwich
and just then
another neighbor came out
to water her daffodils or posies or some flower
humming a sunny song
on a sunny day
for all of us
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
hot
with nothing to do
so I took a cup of iced coffee onto the porch
and sat down to read
or I should say re-read
some Ferlinghetti
getting about three pages into it
before remembering why
I didn’t like Ferlinghetti
when I heard a yell
and a gentle screech
and looked down to see a fat Mexican
getting out of a plumbing van
a black homeless guy coming towards him
saying “You almost hit him!”
and in front of the van was an elderly homeless white guy
asleep in front of a recycling can in the alley
“You almost hit him!” the black guy said
“He shouldn’t have been sleeping in the middle of the alley!”
the fat Mexican said
and the elderly white bum just slept
the black bum saying you almost hit him
the fat Mexican saying he shouldn’t have been sleeping there
and the white bum sleeping there in front of the recycling can
till finally the black bum left only to turn around
and head back towards the fat Mexican plumber who was entering his gate
and apologetically say “You probably didn’t see him”
“No I didn’t” said the Mexican
and that was that
the fat Mexican went home
the black bum left
and the white bum slept
and Ferlinghetti was still terrible
and the old white bum slept
for another five minutes
got up
puked
took a piss
and sat back down
till another neighbor came by and said
“You should go”
so the old guy walked down the alley
to the next one
and the other neighbor
took his groceries in
and fixed a sandwich
and just then
another neighbor came out
to water her daffodils or posies or some flower
humming a sunny song
on a sunny day
for all of us
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
To a Woman
I
We’ll drive a Volvo
to Buckingham Fountain
drink rose
and eat cheese made by monks
that killed themselves over 200 years ago
while dogs bark
and your nipples soften
There will be fireworks
for some reason
mostly bottle rockets
kids are launching at us
I will read Donne
and you will say
who’s Donne?
and give me a relationship quiz
I will get a 95
and masturbate later that night
feeling proud that we were so compatible
II
I will wait two days
and then call you
I will leave a message
and make my voice sound deep
like a 95
It will involve me laughing nervously
and talking about deep-dish pizza
It will last three minutes
half-way through
I will forget to keep my voice deep
and sound like a nasally Jew
I will analyze the message in my head
over and over
I will get three new gray hairs
You will drink mojitos
and masturbate
later that night
thinking of Skeet Ulrich
for some reason
III
Five days pass
and I will erase your number from my phone
You will decide to try myspace
and meet a fifth-level Palladin warlord
he will beat my score
and ask you to move into his studio in Pilsen
You will make wine together
and smoke Camel wide-filters
You will have a cat named Charlie Parker
and a dog named Shit-head
and life will be grand
in a point system
out of 500
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
We’ll drive a Volvo
to Buckingham Fountain
drink rose
and eat cheese made by monks
that killed themselves over 200 years ago
while dogs bark
and your nipples soften
There will be fireworks
for some reason
mostly bottle rockets
kids are launching at us
I will read Donne
and you will say
who’s Donne?
and give me a relationship quiz
I will get a 95
and masturbate later that night
feeling proud that we were so compatible
II
I will wait two days
and then call you
I will leave a message
and make my voice sound deep
like a 95
It will involve me laughing nervously
and talking about deep-dish pizza
It will last three minutes
half-way through
I will forget to keep my voice deep
and sound like a nasally Jew
I will analyze the message in my head
over and over
I will get three new gray hairs
You will drink mojitos
and masturbate
later that night
thinking of Skeet Ulrich
for some reason
III
Five days pass
and I will erase your number from my phone
You will decide to try myspace
and meet a fifth-level Palladin warlord
he will beat my score
and ask you to move into his studio in Pilsen
You will make wine together
and smoke Camel wide-filters
You will have a cat named Charlie Parker
and a dog named Shit-head
and life will be grand
in a point system
out of 500
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
New Employee Orientation or How I Came to Hate the Name Heather
The meeting for new employees was in the Columbian Room of the Museum of Science and Industry
A sexless conference area that would make the perfect place for a clerk or receptionists suicide
Tapioca walls and a dirty brown floral carpet
There was coffee and it counted as work
so even after staying up all night drinking Evan Williams
and watching a Chapelle’s Show marathon I went
I was the only one from the Omnimax theatre section of the museum
my usual crowd of cynical college kids and single moms and dads that had it tough but still smiled
The crowd for the orientation was comprised almost entirely of members of the facilitators section which meant they were all bad actors and closet-sized theatre directors that needed a day job
There is nothing worse on this planet than being hung-over and stuck in a conference room full of actors
The overflamboyant noise did not mix well with the sterile atmosphere and it made my headache worse
The speakers took turns talking about payroll and fire-exit safety as if the Gods were listening
after four hours of presentations
it was time for the scavenger hunt
we divided up into groups and were all given packets with 25 fill-in-the-blank questions dealing with the museum exhibits
First one back with all the questions answered got a food voucher good for one cafeteria meal
As my group walked by the El exhibit I had visions of throwing myself on the tracks and being run over by a ghost train
Two women led the group
one was a petite blonde very pretty with a gorgeous ass that looked like it never saw the mattress as she slept and was methodically paraffin waxed every morning
she had short hair and ran ahead with the other girl
an obnoxious redhead who you could tell took everything about acting seriously except the talent part and had visions of that room temperature spaghetti already in her head
I suspected the blonde was just feigning interest as an excuse to stay ahead of the rest of the group as she was creeped out (and rightfully so) by the haggard looking Jew with a five o’ clock shadow the quiet fat guy and the effeminate black guy in a lab coat following her
the ladies shouted out the answers and I pretended to write them down
not wanting to be blamed for costing us our cafeteria coupons
When we returned we had lost by a long shot
and as the actors talked I played cell-phone poker
six hours later and we were barely half-way through the presenters
I got up to go to the washroom and when I came back I could hear maniacal laughter and crying as I approached the conference room door
I opened the door
and it was group activity w/ Heather
Heather was the kind of person that assumed talking loud and being overzealous passed as entertainment simply because it worked on people that went to see Indiana rowboat shows and took their kids to the Dells
while everyone was in a circle role-playing I inched over to the table where I hung my head and tried to remain unnoticed
then Heather led the gang back to the table where she pointed at a screen and yelled some more
after a few minutes of Heather’s blonde amphetamine frenzy she asked everyone to get back up and move back into a circle
one kid finally snapped and threw his glasses against the table
three others moaned
this was more than seven hours later
I had had enough
I asked the HR person leading the group and who’d had enough too if I could go I had a train to catch
he instantly knew that I was full of shit smiled and said yes you can
I hiked out of the conference room and up the stairs
Heather being Heather echoing in the distance
on my way to the train stop I saw the same old disheveled and hunch-backed homeless black guy I see on Cornell and 57th everyday
he looked like he wasn’t getting any change
we would both need some hair of the dog that night
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
A sexless conference area that would make the perfect place for a clerk or receptionists suicide
Tapioca walls and a dirty brown floral carpet
There was coffee and it counted as work
so even after staying up all night drinking Evan Williams
and watching a Chapelle’s Show marathon I went
I was the only one from the Omnimax theatre section of the museum
my usual crowd of cynical college kids and single moms and dads that had it tough but still smiled
The crowd for the orientation was comprised almost entirely of members of the facilitators section which meant they were all bad actors and closet-sized theatre directors that needed a day job
There is nothing worse on this planet than being hung-over and stuck in a conference room full of actors
The overflamboyant noise did not mix well with the sterile atmosphere and it made my headache worse
The speakers took turns talking about payroll and fire-exit safety as if the Gods were listening
after four hours of presentations
it was time for the scavenger hunt
we divided up into groups and were all given packets with 25 fill-in-the-blank questions dealing with the museum exhibits
First one back with all the questions answered got a food voucher good for one cafeteria meal
As my group walked by the El exhibit I had visions of throwing myself on the tracks and being run over by a ghost train
Two women led the group
one was a petite blonde very pretty with a gorgeous ass that looked like it never saw the mattress as she slept and was methodically paraffin waxed every morning
she had short hair and ran ahead with the other girl
an obnoxious redhead who you could tell took everything about acting seriously except the talent part and had visions of that room temperature spaghetti already in her head
I suspected the blonde was just feigning interest as an excuse to stay ahead of the rest of the group as she was creeped out (and rightfully so) by the haggard looking Jew with a five o’ clock shadow the quiet fat guy and the effeminate black guy in a lab coat following her
the ladies shouted out the answers and I pretended to write them down
not wanting to be blamed for costing us our cafeteria coupons
When we returned we had lost by a long shot
and as the actors talked I played cell-phone poker
six hours later and we were barely half-way through the presenters
I got up to go to the washroom and when I came back I could hear maniacal laughter and crying as I approached the conference room door
I opened the door
and it was group activity w/ Heather
Heather was the kind of person that assumed talking loud and being overzealous passed as entertainment simply because it worked on people that went to see Indiana rowboat shows and took their kids to the Dells
while everyone was in a circle role-playing I inched over to the table where I hung my head and tried to remain unnoticed
then Heather led the gang back to the table where she pointed at a screen and yelled some more
after a few minutes of Heather’s blonde amphetamine frenzy she asked everyone to get back up and move back into a circle
one kid finally snapped and threw his glasses against the table
three others moaned
this was more than seven hours later
I had had enough
I asked the HR person leading the group and who’d had enough too if I could go I had a train to catch
he instantly knew that I was full of shit smiled and said yes you can
I hiked out of the conference room and up the stairs
Heather being Heather echoing in the distance
on my way to the train stop I saw the same old disheveled and hunch-backed homeless black guy I see on Cornell and 57th everyday
he looked like he wasn’t getting any change
we would both need some hair of the dog that night
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
For Jill
I would fake a Portuguese accent for you
study wine
and grow a vagina on my soul
I would pretend stories about Scotland Yard were interesting
and watch less TV
I would move to Delaware
or eastern Delaware
or give Somalian food another shot
give up baseball
but not Ron Santo
go to church
and not laugh
go to temple
and not sleep
eat salads
and masturbate less
stop drinking beer
and shave
get my Master’s in Botanical Science
just to kill time
and one night
when we went out
to a fancy dinner
of lobster bisque
and risotto
not a french dip
from Arby’s
I’d propose to you
w/ a ring in a champagne glass
and it would make a grand commercial
or Tom Hanks movie
but in reality
I’m too scared to even talk to you
and you’re a lesbian
so this bag of Cheetos is for you
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
study wine
and grow a vagina on my soul
I would pretend stories about Scotland Yard were interesting
and watch less TV
I would move to Delaware
or eastern Delaware
or give Somalian food another shot
give up baseball
but not Ron Santo
go to church
and not laugh
go to temple
and not sleep
eat salads
and masturbate less
stop drinking beer
and shave
get my Master’s in Botanical Science
just to kill time
and one night
when we went out
to a fancy dinner
of lobster bisque
and risotto
not a french dip
from Arby’s
I’d propose to you
w/ a ring in a champagne glass
and it would make a grand commercial
or Tom Hanks movie
but in reality
I’m too scared to even talk to you
and you’re a lesbian
so this bag of Cheetos is for you
© 2008 Lee Kitzis
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