John Grochalski
—Poetry by John A. Grochalski, Brooklyn, NY
—Photos Courtesy of John A. Grochalski
—Poetry by John A. Grochalski, Brooklyn, NY
—Photos Courtesy of John A. Grochalski
nine innings
in between
the car ads
the erectile disfunction ones
and the ads
for colon cancer
two teams manage
to play nine innings
while i sit
on the couch
drinking vodka and beer
daydreaming
i’m a billionaire
at home
on a
sick day
from work.
in between
the car ads
the erectile disfunction ones
and the ads
for colon cancer
two teams manage
to play nine innings
while i sit
on the couch
drinking vodka and beer
daydreaming
i’m a billionaire
at home
on a
sick day
from work.
On The Dock
black dress
black dress
black mane of curly hair
black dress
that barely covers
your ass
wobbling around
this hotel lobby
in black high heels
it’s a known fact
that the world keeps making
twenty-year-old women
and that i
keep getting older
too.
Noir
to the woman stopping
to smell her armpits
you are at a street corner
ten-speed upright at your side
sniffing your armpits
like a dog sniffs at its own ass
rubbing soft flesh
and holding it to your nose
neither disgusted nor content
the only person in their only world
and you move me
like a symphony.
Cast No Shadow
love is a rosebush
love
is
a
rosebush
and
i
am
its
thorn
prick
angrily
storming
away
from
you
on
a
dirty
city
street
again.
love
is
a
rosebush
and
i
am
its
thorn
prick
angrily
storming
away
from
you
on
a
dirty
city
street
again.
Italy, 2/2/74
the black heart of the cinema
the villains victorious
the bad guys won
and all i can do
is watch the little punks
who threw a bottle of soda
at me and my wife
run out of the theater
unscathed
while my helpless heroine
cleans sticky goo off of her jacket
and the credits roll
on this disaster film
of an afternoon.
the villains victorious
the bad guys won
and all i can do
is watch the little punks
who threw a bottle of soda
at me and my wife
run out of the theater
unscathed
while my helpless heroine
cleans sticky goo off of her jacket
and the credits roll
on this disaster film
of an afternoon.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Life is like a rose garden—watch for the thorns and keep the pest dust handy.
—Anonymous
___________________
Our thanks to newcomer John Grochalski for his poetry and photos today! John’s poetry has appeared in several online and print publications, including Red Fez, Outsider Writers Collective, Underground Voices, The Lilliput Review, The Main Street Rag, Zygote In My Coffee, The Camel Saloon, and Bartleby Snopes. He is the author of five books of poetry: The Noose Doesn’t Get Any Looser After You Punch (Six Gallery Press, 2008); Glass City (Low Ghost Press, 2010); Starting with the Last Name Grochalski (Coleridge Street Press, 2014); The Philosopher’s Ship (Alien Buddha Press, 2018); and Eating a Cheeseburger During the End Times (Kung Fu Treachery, 2021). He is also the author of the novels, The Librarian (Six Gallery Press, 2013); Wine Clerk (Six Gallery Press, 2016); and P-Town: Forever (Alien Buddha Press, 2021). Welcome to the Kitchen, John, and don’t be a stranger!
___________________
—Medusa
—Medusa
John Grochalski
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
beggar with empty pockets
spilled all his treasure
along the way;
now he has to start over…
