CIRCA MID '90S

THAT'S HOW THEY GETCHA

and so i'm slamming away on the
assembly line packing books in
boxes--i've got it down to a system,
now--fitting in configurations of five
like clockwork--it took me a while
to get the hang of it but here i am
slogging away for the next three
hours---wiley is falling behind after
showing me a few useful tricks and
i'm impressed by my increasing level of success--
--rat in the proletarian maze of industry,
hammering away on pointless activities run
by a clock---it gets boring, naturally,
so i turn it into a private game,
exceeding wiley's progress and as i get better
and better i'm thinking, i've gotcha,
wiley, you old fart, i've really
gotcha, i'm catching up to your slow
old ass--then i realize, hell, i'm
a rube of the first order--i fell
for the game, hook, line and
dead brain cells--that's how you
become a cog in their machine;
that's how they getcha.



HOW CHRISTIAN OF YOU!

the graffiti in the bathroom
read, "let God show you fuckin'

fags the way home...
                               ...Hell"




WHY I HATE TV TALK SHOWS

the bleachers are packed with a greek chorus
of screeching baboons and barking dogs
exercising loud righteous indignation,
braying hellacious disapproval and
otherwise passing judgment on guests who
look differently, act differently, dress
differently, raised some hell, broke some
rules, fucked someone, killed someone,
dared to do ANYTHING
            but stay home and watch TV.




Copyright 1995, 1996, 2018 Molotov Editions

         In my last several months in Nashua, NH I was living in this slum for about $100 a week. I had quit my 14 year hotel job in a 3-month master plan to cash in my 401(k) and relocate to Arkansas. In the months while I was waiting for that money to get cut loose I was frequenting this fly-by-night temp agency around the corner, who would bus us all out to this book binding plant in Westford, Mass. They paid you by the day and a neighborhood bar down the street would cash the checks. After I left the state my Mom told me that agency had folded up as if it were never there. No huge surprise. These poems are some of my output from around that time.



THIS WEEK'S PLAYLIST:
STARCRAWLER-S/T
OMD-DAZZLE SHIPS
COM TRUISE-ITERATION