POETRY LANDFILL

I wash my filthy feet in an old bedpan
they are filthy because my backyard is unkempt
and I walk through it like I’m better than nature
I walk through it like there isn’t life under my toes
I threw my shoes in the pool
my house is rented, the pool isn’t even mine
but then again, nothing is

I try to stare out of my bedroom window
I get embarassed when my neighbors see me
because they know what I’m doing
but I’m not watching tv
or owning light blue mid-size sedans
or locking my doors to preserve my portraits
I just want to catch a glimpse of their end of day movements
without them knowing

I wander around the hot coals of my municipality before dawn
and let my toes imagine their quarry
I pretend that I know what it was like
to graduate high school in 1985
while somewhere out there my mother is thinking of me
and somewhere in my backyard
I sit on the edge of my pool making perfect ripples
trying not to let her down

How cool can you look in a photograph with your dad
Answer: Kool
My dad is dead, his ashes are somewhere
He doesn’t speak, or write, or drink anymore
But your dad wears glasses that are big
and magnifying
and stylish 30 years ago
which is when I would have lived if I were a dad

gold chains are cool
I want you to remember this
I want you all to remember this
I want you to trace the history of a receding dad hairline
with your finger
like you think you trace the history of your autumnal sunsets
the important ones

sarcasm is cool
and dad did great things
like when he gave birth to your look before you had one
your eyes are wonderful and they have their own shadows
and sometimes looking great is better than doing great things
but almost never

Everybody
is
getting
a
koi
fish
tattoo

then
one
day
people
will
realize: Asia isn’t cool
North America is

and
their
kids
will
get
tattoos
of
abandoned
factories
on
their
arms

and
they
will
laugh
at
their
smudgy
grandparents