—Poetry by Larry Houston, N. Carolina
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST
floorboards pop
like old bones
as I stand
walk to the kitchen
get last night’s pizza
out of the ‘fridge
eat it cold
rainwater pooled
in the yard
from last night’s storm
greasy, chartreuse
the color of phlegm
I clear my throat
spit in the sink
get a beer out of the ‘fridge
take a long drink
walk to the sofa
and sit
in my boxers
with my head back
beer bottle cold in my hand
floorboards pop
like old bones
as I stand
walk to the kitchen
get last night’s pizza
out of the ‘fridge
eat it cold
rainwater pooled
in the yard
from last night’s storm
greasy, chartreuse
the color of phlegm
I clear my throat
spit in the sink
get a beer out of the ‘fridge
take a long drink
walk to the sofa
and sit
in my boxers
with my head back
beer bottle cold in my hand
FRESH LEMONADE
the grass is tall,
grows through the spokes
of an overturned tricycle
in the side yard.
the kids are playing
under a big oak tree
in dirty clothes,
while their parents
drink beer
and argue
in the hot afternoon
throwing empties
out in the yard.
the kids knock at my door
they are
sweaty,
dirty.
I ask them in
fix lemonade
with fresh lemons
and sugar
we drink
on the porch
the lemonade tart,
sweet,
the ceiling fan stirs the warm air
it’s getting dark
their parents have disappeared
I walk them home.
on the back stoop
I stop,
look in
her head thrown back
bent over the sink
he holds her hips
pants at his ankles
their parents
fuck doggie
I take the kids back
fix hotdogs and chips.
cut on the TV
search for cartoons
let them fall asleep on the sofa.
later
the neighbor shows up
smells of beer,
and a fresh fuck
gathers her children
the boy rubs sleepy eyes
they both say goodbye
follow their mother back home
the grass is tall,
grows through the spokes
of an overturned tricycle
in the side yard.
the kids are playing
under a big oak tree
in dirty clothes,
while their parents
drink beer
and argue
in the hot afternoon
throwing empties
out in the yard.
the kids knock at my door
they are
sweaty,
dirty.
I ask them in
fix lemonade
with fresh lemons
and sugar
we drink
on the porch
the lemonade tart,
sweet,
the ceiling fan stirs the warm air
it’s getting dark
their parents have disappeared
I walk them home.
on the back stoop
I stop,
look in
her head thrown back
bent over the sink
he holds her hips
pants at his ankles
their parents
fuck doggie
I take the kids back
fix hotdogs and chips.
cut on the TV
search for cartoons
let them fall asleep on the sofa.
later
the neighbor shows up
smells of beer,
and a fresh fuck
gathers her children
the boy rubs sleepy eyes
they both say goodbye
follow their mother back home
SUNDAY NIGHT
whisper close
her breath moist
smelling of grapes
we sat outside
at a small table
a white tablecloth
and two glasses
cigar smoke lifted slow
in the still air
taxis and Ubers
picking up riders
street lamps throwing long shadows
she gathered her purse
stood
turned away
I poured the last glassful
of wine
drew a mouthful of smoke
let it out
the traffic loud
on the street
whisper close
her breath moist
smelling of grapes
we sat outside
at a small table
a white tablecloth
and two glasses
cigar smoke lifted slow
in the still air
taxis and Ubers
picking up riders
street lamps throwing long shadows
she gathered her purse
stood
turned away
I poured the last glassful
of wine
drew a mouthful of smoke
let it out
the traffic loud
on the street
BROWN LIQUOR
is fierce in the sun
I drank half the pint
coming down from the mountain.
Now,
holding on to the guardrail
the metal hot in my hands
puking bile and brown liquor
into the bushes and vines
all I want is to stick out my thumb
catch a ride
find my way home
is fierce in the sun
I drank half the pint
coming down from the mountain.
Now,
holding on to the guardrail
the metal hot in my hands
puking bile and brown liquor
into the bushes and vines
all I want is to stick out my thumb
catch a ride
find my way home
4 A.M.
Her voice low on the phone,
she tells me
about trying to die.
I squeeze the phone
try to block out
what I hear
she’s sobbing
I let her cry
tell her a secret
from boyhood
my voice soft.
at ten I tried
to stab myself
stabbed a dish-liquid bottle
instead
the thick pink liquid
oozing out
spreading
on the green countertop
she said oh my god why?
I’m crying softly now
my voice low
I hated myself
I replied.
and we talked about life
and the sadness that breaks people down
making them less than they are
searching for something
to help them get through
I hung up
and in the 4 a.m. quiet
fired up my computer
and resumed watching porn
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
WORKING
—Larry Houston
She put her lipstick on
Painting her lips
The color of blood
I eat mac and cheese
and smell her perfume
in the small kitchen
she kisses the top of my head
says
finish your homework
don’t stay up late watching TV
and walks toward the door
in her red dress
____________________
Welcome back to Larry Houston, and thanks for his poetry today! Larry first appeared in the Kitchen on Aug. 10, 2022.
Viva La Lucha! Today (Wed. (10/19), 4-5:30pm), a Zoom Conversation takes place with Royal Chicano Air Force (RCAF) Artists/Founding Members Rudy Cuellar and Louie "the Foot" González, discussing prints from the Chicano Poster Collection. Info/reg: rcafoct.eventbrite.com/. Host: Terezita Romo. Check out a fine history of Sacramento’s Royal Chicano Air Force (RCAF) poets and artists by Dr. Ella Maria Diaz on smarthistory at smarthistory.org/rcaf/. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about this and other future poetry events in the NorCal area.
Her voice low on the phone,
she tells me
about trying to die.
I squeeze the phone
try to block out
what I hear
she’s sobbing
I let her cry
tell her a secret
from boyhood
my voice soft.
at ten I tried
to stab myself
stabbed a dish-liquid bottle
instead
the thick pink liquid
oozing out
spreading
on the green countertop
she said oh my god why?
I’m crying softly now
my voice low
I hated myself
I replied.
and we talked about life
and the sadness that breaks people down
making them less than they are
searching for something
to help them get through
I hung up
and in the 4 a.m. quiet
fired up my computer
and resumed watching porn
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
WORKING
—Larry Houston
She put her lipstick on
Painting her lips
The color of blood
I eat mac and cheese
and smell her perfume
in the small kitchen
she kisses the top of my head
says
finish your homework
don’t stay up late watching TV
and walks toward the door
in her red dress
____________________
Welcome back to Larry Houston, and thanks for his poetry today! Larry first appeared in the Kitchen on Aug. 10, 2022.
Viva La Lucha! Today (Wed. (10/19), 4-5:30pm), a Zoom Conversation takes place with Royal Chicano Air Force (RCAF) Artists/Founding Members Rudy Cuellar and Louie "the Foot" González, discussing prints from the Chicano Poster Collection. Info/reg: rcafoct.eventbrite.com/. Host: Terezita Romo. Check out a fine history of Sacramento’s Royal Chicano Air Force (RCAF) poets and artists by Dr. Ella Maria Diaz on smarthistory at smarthistory.org/rcaf/. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about this and other future poetry events in the NorCal area.
—Royal Chicano Air Force’s Southside Park Mural,
1977 (restored 2001), 14 x 110 feet
(Southside Park, Sacramento, CA)
____________________
—Medusa
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