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Saturday, August 06, 2022

Watching Hulu

 
—Poetry by Dan Flore III, 
Philadelphia, PA
—Dandelion Photos Courtesy 
of Public Domain
 


OUT OF OUR MINDS ON A PLEASANT
SUNDAY AFTERNOON

I like the guy across the street
I think he’s a vet but I can’t be sure
I've never met him
he has a nice little house
smoke coming out of the chimney in the winter
like the American dream
in the summer he mows the lawn incessantly
I think he has OCD
I try real hard not to get annoyed
by the obnoxious tractor going on and on
but his madness triggers mine
sometimes I feel like screaming "It's already mowed!"
he looks at me like
I’m a nervous wreck
maybe he feels like screaming
"It's just the noise of a tractor!"
we don't scream though
we just look at each other
out of our minds—
two mental neighbors
waving hi sometimes
just to make sure
the other hasn’t completely lost it
 
 
 

 
 
CAT

I've been sleeping
on the couch
for hours
with the cat
now I have to get up
to go get the mail
and become a man again
 
 
 

 
 
PHARMA-SUICIDE

had a small panic attack
outside of the pharmacy

I was sitting out on the curb
in the blah white of February
with pieces of salt cracking
too loud under my sneaker

I had just been in the store and
they had boxes and crap
taking up the aisles

it was crowded too
so everyone was bumping
into each other

I had no money
so I was just aimlessly
drifting around in there
with no real purpose
other than

trying to
avoid my dad
who was ashamed to be
buying adult diapers
and was trying to hide it
from me
and I went along with it
like I didn't know

it was taking a long time
in the store
and I was staring at a pair of scissors
when I heard my dad
having an argument
with the manager
over a pack of Depends

that's when I went out for a cigarette
with this old lady staring at me
as I wandered again idly
in the parking lot
until I stopped on the curb
paranoid of getting smoke
near someone
then paranoid even more
of a cop pulling in
wondering what I was up to

that's when it got me
three little shots
of not being able to breathe
nobody knew it happened
and it was over pretty fast

I started to worry
if my dad had suffered too
he had been getting so stressed
at the manager
I wondered if he may have wet himself

when I finally met him
at the car he was complaining
about how he didn't know where I was
and I knew the whole trip
wasn't worth it
 
 
 
A dandelion floats through the dead air…
 


NOT BEING ABLE TO WRITE ABOUT
MY MOM AND I AT THE POOL

there they are again
the mother and daughter at the pool
just begging me to write that epic poem
about my mother and I at the pool—
the hours she spent on me as a child
me doing Michael Jackson spins off the diving board
the inflatable swimmies we called my muscles
(making me feel like the incredible hulk)
the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
the splash marks on the concrete from my feet
all of that stuff
the mother and daughter float together playing
just begging me to write it
but I don't have the muscles to write it today
the 14-year-old boys have swarmed the lifeguard
it's the one I like and it's her last day
a dandelion floats through the dead air
like nobody's wish
my wife is back home upset the house is a mess
and I feel like a scrape against the cement
I don't even feel like a scrape really
just the cement that seems poised for some child's knees
I don't know how you had the strength to take me to the pool everyday, mom
I don't even have the strength to write about it properly
maybe somehow in the heat I've collapsed
forget the heat, I've collapsed by the very blood of my body
the pool is calm now
the mother and daughter have left
the pages of this journal flip up in the air
I think I'll just go in
I'm overrun with sun
leave my mom and I in our glory for now
I'll jump in
and just try to wash it all away

________________

Today’s LittleNip:

I JUST WANNA SMOKE A JOINT
AND WATCH HULU

I just wanna
smoke a joint
and watch Hulu
she says
after the kids
are finally asleep
holding onto her
purple lighter
like it is her
only escape

________________

Dan Flore III joins us in the Kitchen today for the first time! His poems have appeared in many publications, and his fifth poetry book is
Written in the Dust on the Ceiling Fan, published by dead man’s press ink. He lives outside of Philadelphia, PA. Welcome to the Kitchen, Dan, and don’t be a stranger! [I’m sure many of us would agree with Dan that we’d just like to smoke a joint and watch Hulu these days…]

Sac. Poetry Alliance’s “The Way of Poetry”, a six-week workshop on Japanese forms, starts today; attend one or all. And Sacramento’s JoAnn Anglin reads with Nicole Henares in Lodi this afternoon. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area.

________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
 Dan Flore III
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 




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