wonder of the world
people in the neighborhood
are impressed by the mound of shit
planted there in the middle of the street
they say, wow, watch that shit!
watch that poop! if they are with kids
it looks more human than canine
the middle schoolers and high schoolers
like to come by after class to look at it
the middle schoolers use the crap mound
as a chance to try out their swear words
shit, they say….ew gross, fucking shit
the high schoolers just roll by stoned and say,
dude…shit…. dude
still, they all look at it like it’s the next wonder of the world
unbroken by torrents of rain or high winds
occasionally someone steps in the shit mound
they seem pretty unimpressed by it when that happens
personally, i wonder if the building’s super
has seen the mound of shit
maybe when he’s taking out the trash or blowing around leaves
i wonder if he’s as impressed by the shit mound
as the people in the neighborhood
it has to be why he hasn’t taken out the hose
and washed the shit mound away down the street
sending it off to shit mound hell
that’s okay though
the other day some cherubic family came lolling up the street
most probably from the park
they rode two huge strollers through the shit mound
the kids landed in the middle of it with their new sneakers
squishing it and sending shit streaks everywhere
you could hear them outside cursing
wondering who would leave a festering mound of shit
right there in the middle of the street
trying to get the shit off the stroller wheels and sneakers
for at least fifteen minutes while their kids cried
it was like something magical had died
seeing that shit mound reduced to rubble
but i didn’t have to take heart for long
two days later someone left another shit mound on the street
human…canine…take your pick
only this one more impressive than the first
and now the middle schoolers and high schoolers are back
saying, shit, man, shit man, fucking shit-man-dude
and people with strollers are careful to go around it
it feels like i live right outside the egyptian pyramids
and i’m thinking of charging admission
tell all the people that if they look hard enough
into the center of the turd
that they can see the face of jesus christ
then call in on the super
and see if he wants to go 50/50
on whatever it is we make.
exegesis
tricia
came from westchester
where parents handed kids cars
on their sixteenth birthday
the way others peeled off a five spot
and told their needy spawn to have a good time
that’s not to say she’s pampered
tricia’s parents
only bought her two cars
they only paid for her grad school twice
and are on record as saying they’ll only pay for one marriage
first she was a scientist then she was a lawyer
now she’s a teacher but she hates that too
tricia hides in the bathroom on her lunch breaks
and updates her twitter and facebook statuses
to make it seem like she has a much better life
than the rest of us
she always asks, is it wine o’clock yet?
always has some anecdote about a student who needed saving
tricia says she’s sacrificed her health for her job
she chokes down her salad when she gets the chance
otherwise her happy pills
will upset her empty stomach
and her therapist says that tricia doesn’t need
anymore drama in her life
she’s already married to a guy named bill
who can sing and draw and makes the most wonderful foods
only he won’t do anything with his talent
bill is content to just go to his office job
who just goes to an office job? tricia’s mother always asks
no one from westchester that’s for damned sure!
oh, and bill leaves piss dribbles on the bathroom floor
this kind of stuff enrages tricia
both the lack of ambition and the pee on the floor
she tries to get bill motivated
get him to read good books and go to art galleries
just like her mom did taming her dad
she tries to get him to sit down when he urinates
but bill doesn’t seem to care about any of it
so he and tricia spend their weekends in their apartment
streaming tv shows and playing on their phones
taking happy pills and eating popcorn
that is until tricia wrote a book
a wonderful kid’s book
all about a turtle who’s afraid to come out of his shell
two hundred words that took her two years in secret
in the bathroom of her job to write
she says it’s about self-acceptance
but tricia’s mother says, why not write a REAL book?
she says it’s about bill
but bill doesn’t see himself in it
he shrugs and says, if you say so, dear
only tricia wasn’t going to do anything with the book
but a lack of ambition on her end would’ve been hypocritical
and thankfully she has an old high school friend and ex-flame
from westchester, blair
who’s a big shot literary agent in midtown manhattan
a down-to-earth guy
and…oh…if you’d only reacquainted herself with him first!
tricia’s mother squeals
a guy with all of the ambition that bill doesn’t have
blair…whose parents only bought him one car
blair…whose parents only paid for his grad school once
so he understands the value of a dollar
blair…. whose still unmarried and straight and probably pisses in the bowl
so….
thankfully tricia was wise enough to send her book to blair
all two hundred words that took her two years
of inhaling salads and her colleague’s farts
and her mother’s criticisms on sunday night phone calls
so that blair could read it and fawn over it
and give it to his editor friend at the big publishing house
where the book will be out in time for christmas next year
and when you ask tricia how she did it
how she reached out into the clear blue sky
and snagged her own little piece of the american dream
she doesn’t think about westchester or
cars or college or teaching or bill or piss on the floor
or how growing up everyone told her she was pretty
but not as pretty as her mother was at that age
tricia always says it was, hard work and tenacity
as she fingers her bottle of happy pills in her purse
and watches blair schmooze some blonde from across the room
as bill nods his head until it becomes awkward for everyone
and he goes off alone, scratching his ass
to get himself another helping of that delicious shrimp cocktail
that they always serve
at even the most mediocre
of literary events.
today’s drunkard
is stumbling around
incoherently
pulling encyclopedias off the shelves
and throwing them onto tables
with slaps loud enough to wake the dead
today’s drunkard
keeps opening doors that he’s not supposed to
while we employees
shout
but sir…. but sir…. but….
occasionally he stops and shakes
like he’s having an epileptic fit
he scares children
but their parents keeping saying
don’t worry, honey, everyone is different
and that’s what’s so great about the world
right about the time
today’s drunkard bends over and makes
like he’s going to vomit on the floor
then the parents aren’t so open to diversity
they take their kids by the arm
and pull them out of the building as quickly as they can
as today’s drunkard
stands tall and farts and laughs
and bares his broken yellow teeth
looking around to see what he can do next
while i man a mop
and clutch the telephone
waiting to see if i have to clean up
today’s drunkard’s
puke or excrement
or if i’ll have to dial
911
once again.
