ONE OF MY BATTLES

one of my battles
I am not against technology
unless it isn’t working properly
that is when I go to war
my battle with electronics, especially
has been long, terrible
and at times
extremely violent
it started when I was sixteen
with a portable cd player
which stopped playing cds
I gave it two love taps
tried once more to make it work
then threw it out the window
where it was no match for the asphalt
passing below at 80 mph
then came the televisions
some I’ve smashed with sledge hammers
or lawn stakes
one I even cut in half
with a table saw
which I viewed as merely
a demonstration of power
with the advent of cell phones
my rage spiked
and more than a dozen
I have drowned
bitten
stabbed
burned
crushed
thrown at walls
thrown at people
or thrown out into busy streets
to get run over by cars
and all of this
for simply dropping calls
or otherwise misbehaving
there was also a vcr
I laid to rest
in an autumn field
with a 12 gauge shotgun
on what could be termed
a very successful hunting trip
my last computer
a laptop
I crushed with a dumbbell
very late one night
just to make it aware that I didn’t need it
I’ve had sore fists
cut fingers
bruised knuckles
and large gaps of time
during which I was unable to be reached
but those things do not deter me
and nor does the money
I’ve spent in replacements
still I fight on
a brave or insane warrior
in my battle with these electronic devices
a battle which cannot be won
but must be fought
on and on
in fact, just this morning
I caught myself gazing around my room
at the cast iron tea kettle on my shelf
and the large buck knife next to it
I looked out my third floor window
at the pavement below
and considered my next plan of attack
because lately
at the most inopportune times
my printer has been acting up

BAD TIMING

bad timing
I have this friend
who has impeccably terrible timing
when it comes to hanging out
we’ve known each other
for nearly a decade
and used to raise hell together
for many years
until he settled down
found a woman
and left the raising hell
up to me
but every now and then
he’ll get the itch
to go out and get rowdy
but every single time he calls me
it’s after some long bender
some holiday weekend or such
so I have to tell him that no
I can’t go out with him
not tonight
I’m taking a night off
I’m in recovery mode
I really need this
to which he responds
“oh, come on. don’t be a pussy.”
that’s when I get all serious and say
“listen, man. just because you went
and grew up, just because you settled down
just because you don’t go out
and tear up the town
nearly every single night
doesn’t mean that I don’t anymore
so give me a break.”
there’ll be a short silence
and then he’ll say, “well, okay…”
and it’s at that exact moment
when he’s accepted defeat
that I have to break down and say
“all right, fuck it. where to?”

FIVE CENTS A MILE

five cents a mile
every time I go to the gas station
on my little Honda Rebel
I get a smile on my face
because filling up the two gallon tank
is kind of like a joke
told to me by the fuel pump
I pay five dollars and change
to fill up the whole tank
now, granted
I can only ride maybe a hundred miles
on that one tank
but measured out
that’s about a nickel
for every mile
and the feeling I get
from every mile I ride
on my little Honda Rebel
is worth a whole lot more than that

NOT HUMAN

not human
it came to my attention
last night
that one of my dear coworkers
(I won’t mention her name)
believes I am not a human
this is not the first instance
of a person doubting my humanity
but it had never come
into question
like this
she came up to me
and said, no-
rather demanded
that I be nice to her friend
because it was her friend’s birthday
and that being nice
meant making out with her
so I said, “listen, Ari- (oops!) don’t treat me
like I’m just a piece of meat. I don’t
just go and make out on command.”
she replied, “shut up. you are
just a piece of meat.”
“Ari, I have feelings, too.
I’m a human being, too.”
she was walking away
when I was saying this last part
but she stopped in her steps
turned back to me and said,
“you do NOT have feelings
and you are NOT a human being!”
after she finished scowling at me
she went back to her table
back to her friend
the birthday girl who I wouldn’t make out with
and I went outside and lit a smoke
smiled at the moonless sky
the rain spitting down
and got to thinking
if I am not a human being
just what am I?
and what can I get away with?

SHE ALIENS FROM ANOTHER PLANET

she aliens from another planet
I was sitting outside
at a table
editing my to – do list
when the first one came up
she was with a friend
and they were talking
and laughing
but then she saw me
and she stopped talking and laughing
stopped moving all together
except to put her hand over her face
her friend
who I also knew
smiled and said, “no need for words.”
I nodded and gave a snort
but whenever
there is no need for words
that’s when people
feel they need to speak most
the first one took
her hand from her face
and said, “I’m so sorry. I’m such
as asshole.”
she thought she needed to apologize
for coming up to me
the previous night
when I was working the door
at a bar
where she had kissed me a few times
asked me to move with her
to Lake Tahoe
gave me a Pall Mall
and had agreed
that before she left
we should have a two month long
wild love affair.
then she went inside the bar
and later that night
left with some other guy
“I don’t care.”
that’s what I said
and I really meant it
because it wasn’t the first time
that she had gotten drunk
and confessed her love for me
asked me to go out with her
and I was sure it wouldn’t
be the last.
there are things in life you have to
get used to
and not taking to heart
the words of drunk women
is high up there on that list
so the two of them left
and a few minutes later
somebody put their arms
over my eyes
and I said, “could be anybody.”
there was some laughter
and this one removed her arms
and smiled at me as she walked away
saying, “we’re in search of a couch,
for the employee lounge.”
I watched her go
looking absolutely gorgeous
in a purple dress
that covered a body
I wouldn’t mind
lying next to again
goofing around and tickling
under the sheets.
“try Craigslist,” I said as she bounced off
then another came walking by
one I’d met years before
through a friend in passing
and she didn’t look at me
didn’t smile
just kept walking by
and I went, pheeww
and looked around
at all the women
the young and the old
the ones with babies inside of them
the fat ones and the skinny ones
the ugly and attractive ones
the ones with red hair
the blondes and brunettes
the ones with thick ankles
flat asses
bad posture
the ones with big frowns
and big smiles
furrowed brows
the ones with bright shiny teeth
acne – scarred faces
nail polish on their fingers
the ones smoking cigarettes
with short hair
and leather vests
and after looking around for so long
the only thought I could have
in my tired brain was
what the hell is it with them?

GET OUTTA MY BAR

get outta my bar
when I go into a bar
and there is a television
I watch it
why do I do this?
the volume is always off
and the programming is usually
sports highlights
or commercials
neither of which I care for
yet still I watch
and I hate that I do
I hate that it’s become the fad
to have as many televisions as you can
inside your bar
there are some bars out there
they have twenty or thirty televisions
in a single room
all showing the same three channels
maybe it’s become a competition
between bar owners
who can have the most televisions
who can broadcast the most shit
from the walls of their bars
whatever it is, it’s crap
the bars used to be holy places
where you’d go to drink the nectar
and confess to an unbiased ear
a place to forge bonds with strangers
make allies and alibis
or where you could hide out
and be left alone
but not anymore
now there’s some asshole
up on the wall
trying to sell you a magic mop
and next to him is another fool
telling you how to lose weight
I didn’t come in here for this
I can drink beer and watch television at home
or if I want to watch sports
I can go to a sports bar
I came in here to hunch over a beer
and dream about the future
or lament about the past
I came in here to do nothing
but with all these televisions on the walls
I can’t even do that

HE COMMANDED LIGHTNING BOLTS TO STRIKE ME DEAD

he commanded lighting bolts to strike me dead
Jim
an old long-haired man
who liked to come into the bar
around midnight
and joke around with everybody
he once said to me
between cigarette drags
as I was standing in the doorway
after having to refuse entry
to a group of drunk girls
celebrating a bachelorette party
“man, I don’t envy your job. People
come up to the door having fun
and then you have to tell them
they can’t have anymore fun.”
“almost,” I said. “I just have to tell them
they can’t have any fun in here.”

and so last night
another Friday night on the door
a man in his mid twenties
with long, sweat-soaked hair
came up and stood a little ways away
an earphone in one ear
the other dangling down his chest
music from his iPod
blasting loud enough for me to hear
ten feet away
while he grunted along with it
and finished a cigarette.
after he’d tucked the butt
into a Red Bull can on the sidewalk
he came up to the door
and looked at me through his glassy
bloodshot and wandering eyes.
he began to fumble for his ID
but I thought I’d save him some time
so I said, “sorry, man, but
you look like you’ve had too much
to come in here.”
he tried to focus his eyes at me
one earphone still blasting music
into his head
the other hanging by his shoulder
“what? what do you mean?”
“I mean I think you’ve had too much
to come in here.”
we went around a few times
as is customary with the drunks
or otherwise fucked up would-be patrons
him asking first if I was serious
then if I was joking.
after enough rounds
he stepped back
and said, “man, I’m a fuckin’ Nazi!
you better let me in there!”
I didn’t have time to say anything
before he raised his arms to the sky
and began to command lightning bolts
to come down from the sky and strike me dead
this went on for some time
and other people came up to the door
and gave me their IDs
along with nervous looks
as the Nazi began to speak
in some guttural, slurred German
I continued to greet new customers
and bid goodnight
to those that were leaving
while I kept an eye on him
standing a few feet away
when the lightning bolts
didn’t come down and strike me dead
he began to roar about the things
he’d do to me
the ways he’d kill me
if I kept refusing him entry
and so on
so during a slow moment
I removed my glasses and set them aside
assuming that a physical confrontation
was a great possibility
but just as soon as I had
he ceased his communion with the sky
wiped the sweat from his forehead
and put out his hand to me
saying, “whoa. wow, I’m sorry about that.
I’m just really fucked up right now. You have
a good night, okay?”
I shook his hand and he said, “peace.”
and then he walked off down the sidewalk
one earphone still blasting into his head