spending money

A poem.


spending money
spending money
all i want to do is spend my money
not save it all miserly or donate it to the deaf
just spend it on myself again and again

big ticket purchase?
spend my money
eating out gorgeous?
spend my money!
another selection in the library of things?
ring the drawstring on the ATM machine!
take it, it’s yours’
and all the misery a zero-balance brings!
ting ting a-ling!

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don’t park in front of my house

aka. some people

A poem.


i’m sure
we don’t make it easy for God
or whichever/whatever/whoever you’re of:

when one neighbour asks us to look after their dog,
then the other leaves a note on our car
that we’re in his road-level permitless parking stall
in the middle of a weekday without a soul on the street at all;

when the same partner with whom
you thought you were meant to be –
the one you just talked to about starting a family –
discards wet sample garbage on the shelf at the grocery;

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stop at the flesh

A poem.


so then,
if i could do it all again

would i want to?

do i really want to know
what could have happened that bad?
negate all i have now for what i could have had?

well since you asked so politely,
i know the things i would change.
to a tee.

life is a lab when you have open multiple tabs –
back-and-forth in a deli sampling various exotic meats,
when it probably costs half your salary, easily
for a real-life meet-and-greet with no physical guarantees.

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broompole in the bumhole

A poem.


compassion is the new black.

i’m trying to get back. so i
try again. and

here we were:
food fried so nice and good,
sitting down, us both in the round –
this is nice! we haven’t been together in
what seems like forever
because we’re never in town!

catching up above-ground with Top-40 in the background –
about how far forward you can see,
and on and on about how great it would be,
and this was your second time starting a family
and me, me, me,
me?

please?

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if i were a caveman

A poem.


ahem:

if i were a cave man,
i wouldn’t be a strong man –
a warrior or a hunter
or hold a leadership position –
but i could at least be remembered
as a proud man.

i would sit by the lake
and smoke herb all-day from my wooden pipe
and think
and play with my dink

instead of fixing the crack in the basin
which is really just a naturally-occurring rock formation
at the base of a waterfall my wife & i
and our tribe call a kitchen sink.
i never said i would be the missing link –
only that i would think.
and touch my dink.

thank you.

//jf 11.2.2022


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