The Man Who Screamed on the Train

I

He squeezed onto the train
elbowing a Chinese lady
brushing his crotch against a young blonde

There was a man next to him
his breath smelled awful
he was pockmarked and fat
like a well-fed feudal lord

the door closed
he noticed three people reading
the celebrity section of the morning paper
the train dragged
construction ahead

It came to a halt
the lights went out
everyone was silent

then an old lady
in a coffee-stained reindeer sweater
mentioned how excited she was
about crazy cupcake Friday at Jewel
to no one in particular
to anyone who would listen

this made the man sick
he opened his mouth and bent over
but nothing came out
he just dry heaved
and then

he screamed

he screamed
and he screamed
in full breaths

The veins in his neck bulged
like trapped anacondas

he screamed
like a man possessed

the newspapers dropped

the old lady left her cart of worthless shit

the passengers cleared the car
through both emergency exits

the man kept screaming
for some time

five people called in
a potential terrorist threat

and after 35 minutes
35 minutes of police negotiations
with a man who knew only one way of communicating

they shot him

one clean shot
to the head

he dropped
and stopped screaming

II

It was the first time
he had ever shot someone

he went home
and ate a Michelina’s microwave dinner

he didn’t feel bad

he didn’t feel good

he felt hungover
zapped

his wife asked him
what was wrong

his labrador looked at him
and tilted its head

he looked at it

he looked at it

then he opened his mouth
and did

what he had to do

© 2011 Lee Kitzis

Fuck Santa Claus, I Want Some Latkes (Hanukkah Poem for My Family)

An SUV pulls up
there’s a giant menorah on top
five Orthodox Jews get out

they pile into the abandoned bus stop
and pull out cigarettes

they smoke
in their yarmulkes
and probably aren’t talking Torah

it is the third day of Hanukkah

this is the best gift I could get

and the best gift I could give

as Santa Claus farts in the wind

and the snow melts

as families sing songs
about god and struggle and joy

and Atheists order Chinese food
and play internet poker

I say a small silent amen

for you

for chain-smoking Jews

for all eight days

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Caesar Salad

It’s 5:15 in the morning at the Horseshoe Casino

I’ve been grinding away for 12 straight hours
at the 3/6 limit table

Donkeys with Bluetooth headsets
slackjaws Serbian loudmouths
beauty queens playing the game for the first time
the whole spectrum of Tuesday gamblers
comes and goes

Once it gets down to 3-handed and a fat dealer named Roberto
I decide to call it a day

I lost $1

A night like this can’t end any other way

I get on the 5:30 shuttle back to Chinatown
and take a seat towards the back

Nothing lets you know where your life is headed
better than being on a dark bus filled w/ hookers
and elderly Chinese men in windbreakers
at 5:31 in the morning on a Wednesday

I’m a winner
I think

The sound of a container cracking behind me
the smell of Caesar dressing
the lip smacking
the guttural breathing

of course

I try to ignore it
but can’t
I wish I was Buddhist
and not obsessive

then something occurs to me
the lip smacking hasn’t stopped for two straight minutes
the breathing seems to be getting heavier

a female cough and a gag

Now I really wish I was Buddhist

Could the Dalai Lama ignore a guy getting a blow job
while he eats a Caesar salad?

I get up
covering my peripherals
and move even further to the back

I find a seat
and sit down

I’m still a winner
I think

only this time
I have a chance to laugh

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Quietly Waiting

Quietly waiting
we go home
to the same meal
and the electricity of our past loves
in a glass of water

and the pigeons don’t know

and the Chinese pervert at the wig store doesn’t know

the meth-head sneaking White Hen coffee
face like stucco

the whores
and the bicyclists

and the slow hands on the clock
of an eight-hour workday don’t know

It makes people mad

you can see it in kindergarten teachers
gas station attendants and trophy wives

cabbies asleep in a Wendy’s parking lot
and Metra attendants on their ritualistic smoke of the day
outside of Millennium Station at 8:15 a.m.

counting the days

‘til payday

while the pigeons

count their crumbs

and all we know

is that we’re quietly waiting

for something other than this

© 2008 Lee Kitzis

Christmas Contemplations From a Half-assed Jew Looking Out His Window

I taste zinc in my mouth for some reason

and am thinking about moving to Thailand

outside it’s Christmas

and everyone’s waiting for the ham and the noose

Howie Mandel’s still on television

and the dead are still piling up in Basra

but at least we have wreaths

and a few tight pussies left

that’ll save the world

Merry Christmas

from me
the Chinese

and Jesus in a bunker in Fallujah

playing Stratego

and waiting

© 2008 Lee Kitzis

Poem Written in Between Playoff Games

This old Chinese lady
about four-foot-eight
kept nudging her elbow into me on the train

You have to jiggle the handle just right on our toilet
to get it to stop running
I call it the “fairy jiggle”
very lightly

Ryan Howard has struck out 199 times this season
he is also one of the ugliest men in baseball
a black Mickey Morandini

Mickey Appleman is a professional poker player
hailing from the Mayfair Club days
a mad statistician and teacher with an MBA
Howard Lederer currently holds a two-to-one chip lead over him

I fairy jiggle the handle and think
of the weather in Prague
and a dry martini

A piece of shit floats back to the top
and I think of the Cubs
and that old Chinese lady

I flush again

You can’t wine ‘em all

© 2008 Lee Kitzis

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