The Neighbors....

The Neighbors

Who’s bowling up there?
I’m not a radically conservative square
Who doesn’t like a party but I do believe
At three a.m. my sanctuary should be silent
Not the pounding fist of belligerence
With mop handle brooms poking holes
In my ceiling
Every night my neighbors chew my glass
Skull with their teeth on a microphone,
Recite Lou Reed’s metal machine music
In the voice of a shrieking cat,
Weld shut their children’s braced teeth
While they mumble and scream
Warriors chipping at my walls above for
Revenge— nothing seems to curtail
Their all night orgies of fascist trampling
Over my beleaguered eyelids that would
Like to remain shut until 6 a.m. at least,
So I can do my yoga without rupturing
Tiny holes in my stomach or passing
Out until my bicycle while parking
And because they don’t stop
I must get old-school-acme-cartoon
Explosion on their asses-maybe they’ll
Think its drug induced and they will turn
Into a basket of stars scattered in the cosmos
Ready to explode, as you will stand outside smiling
As the building cookie crumbles to the ground
In a swath of dust and blindness, and realize you
Have taken it too far and now have no home to
Return to…

by Micah Zevin 2009

Comittment ?

Commitment

Sanities kernels are

Popped out of popcorn-makers

Mouth until they transform

Tiny brown bastard seeds

Burnt, pre-buttered in small

Piles of the scattered and failed,

As you fail each day to complete

Grading your examinations,

Writing poems, paying bills

Simply vegetating on sinking

Leather couches, perusing

Newspapers bold headlines

To extract some words

And operate on your brain

Requires some deliberation

The Humpty Dumpty Dilemma

The Humpty Dumpty Dilemma



When he is patient and keeps his mouth shut

a canary falls out and sings a song

When the hustling game of cards begins creative juices

Pelt his mind with purple bruises and beer bellies

When he sinks below the horizon he is in debt

To no one (in particular)

When he hears that the orgasms are silent

At the Tiffany parade and that people wade in mud puddles

Like ducks trying to cross the street or a tiny pond

He is so flabbergasted that he decides to terrorize himself,

Blow him-self up into tiny little bits just to see

If he could put himself back together again

The Question being would he even want to?

Would it be worth the trouble?


by Micah Zevin December 2009