can’t complain about my two days off
cold january winter but i biked through the city
drank wine at cappy’s
hit up the library
brought the soup tour to the african veldt
posted poems in a couple of neighborhoods
recorded foppish puppyism with a cosmic *****
shot a famous vid of me singing lynyrd skynyrd
wrote three poems of utter profundity
posted a tiktok art vid
saw the latest matrix
(most interesting thing about it
was which aspect ****** the worst)
worked out
hung with my bride
played with the cats
watched tv
ecstasy x 2
nope
can’t complain

we have 350 pounds of quivering repugnance
oozing out of a nightmare into bed 3
he's a nice guy but my god
drooling rivers of foul juice from nose and mouth
his tracheostomy spewing mucus into every corner of the room
one of the more gruesome patients you’ll ever treat
for someone not an amputee or gunshot to the face
the nurse rockets from the room
"I JUST GOT HIS *** IN MY EYE," she wails
"WHAT DO I DO?"
we shrug our shoulders
wash her eye out?   quit nursing?
and how did THAT happen?
she tears down the hall to the attending physician
who tries to talk her down
"he actually has the cleanest *** in the unit," says the doctor
"his labs show there’s very little growing in there"
hard to swallow when assessing fright night in bed 3

a covid patient arrests
unvaccinated
hovering between here and gone
leaning towards death
her daughter comes in the room as we’re scrambling
to keep her heart beating and oxygen saturation viable
"i know you guys are thinking she’s gonna die
we need her alive
we NEED you to believe that she’s going to live"
a sad rush of emotion
a vaccine might have been more effective
than my happy thoughts
but that’s how it works on my planet
on her planet, who knows?

on a warm winter day
i was taping poems to a pole
outside a coffee shop at the edge of the city
as i got back on my bike
the barista sauntered out of the coffeeshop
with a cup and saucer
a panorama of undiluted allure
a storm of blonde hair
eyes from venus
smile like desert rain
she was, obviously, the muse
"hello darling" she said
and strolled to the pole to read my latest

the bartender looked like bukowski’s mom
she served me another shot of tequila and said
"you better slow down, son
it’s bad for your health"

"i ain’t long for this world anyway"
i said, throwing it down

she snorted
"you’re the third kid who told me that tonight"

"hey, can i help it if everyone who dies young
comes to this bar?"

hey hon
how’s your morning going?

this unit is like a disaster movie
2 brain deaths
2 self-inflicted gunshots to the head
2 covids (if only there were a vaccine—
oh ****, there is)
1 paraplegic
1 drunken assault
and a very ******* fellow
who was gored by a bull

let’s go out to eat tonight

what we believe
and why we believe it
is a bowl of spaghetti
we're persuaded before we hear the issue
it's where you were hatched
who hatched you
and the other chickens in the coop
we'll believe the sky is green
if it's pinned to the top of the internet feed
to put it charitably
we're open to input
and it doesn't matter anyway
our decisions rarely coincide with our principles
we choose whatever door is nearest
and scoot on through