Get a Real Job
I used to work this life-shredding office job,
but I never did any work. I always said that I was going
to “meet clients” but I would just walk around the Field Museum high.
I was going “to lunch” for six hours but really I would lounge
around the occult section of the Harold Washington Library,
looking for some astrological epiphany to save me,
for the I-Ching to warn me of the oncoming adventure.
Once I decided to see how far I could get in city hall,
without getting caught, I almost walked right into
the mayor’s office without knowing it.
His secretary asked who I was.
I said that I was going to make copies but I ended up here.
Poems from an old notebook
breakin through spells takes time
and yeah, you’re worried,
but everybody is on your side.
I’ll keep casting
'till we find the one,
which lights up the sparks, in the dark,
big fat sparks.
Magic blasted through your eyes
I see all the old molding
on the facades;
bright and glowing
and I think about the people who used to live there,
used to love here,
with their smiling eyes
as they danced in sweaty bars
and laughed at jokes in the street
and lit fireworks for no reason.
I hear them sometimes
on the back stairs
creeping sadly into the basement
or looking in the windows
to places they knew
by different names.
Ghosts on the Internet
You live on the edges of my life. Blocking the names we used
to call each other,
Even though we were born with them
You see that snow? I made it for you, I made the old neighborhood,
just to remind you that I’m still here.
I can hear you breathing, you want to hear me sing?
One day I’ll see you and I’ll ask you questions
that only mean something to me. Maybe to you too.
We All Paid To Be Here
In a movie theatre I think I gave up on the human race.
Not like a super villian or anything, nothing that boring or
No I just had to admit to myself that my aging process
my thought process
my concept of recess and excess and progress
might never will and might never will be.
And for the children laughing,
I wish you were laughing at the world dying.
I would feel better about maniacs than
boring drones laughing at pictures in cellphones.
I look at the toddlers
dressed as adults;
drinking and gnashing and shouting
karaoke at the top of their lungs.
Just seconds away from making out
to breed more waves of crap
and I pretend to remember what
the fuck I’m doing here.
Stolen car stereo,
lonely and discarded,
next to the sidewalk.