i was chaining up my bike
when the woman approached

"excuse me, i don’t need food or money
do you have good eyes?"

"depends
what are we trying to see?"

"i dropped a bag of money down here
do you see it anywhere?"

"THAT i would see
and i don’t see it"

"oh dear
well i do need food and money"

"and when you find that bag
you’ll be all set
have a nice day"

eventually
all boats spring a leak
and every ship goes down
the ultimate port for each vessel
is the bottom of the sea

my friend dan, a rare and refined writer
came to pittsburgh for a poetry forum

in hopes of making a splash
he decided to bake a chicken
and bring it to the event
unfortunately he chose a kitchen
in ohio

i never got a piece

zombie apocalypse
what better way to process
all these brain dead monsters
murdering total strangers
and third graders
with their advanced weaponry
you can’t go to the supermarket
without fearing you’ll be assassinated
by the walking dead

all these people are trapped on the A train
they look half dead
maybe from the jobs they came from
or the subway
or the lives they’re heading home to
trapped head to toenail
but like all animals in captivity
open the cage door
pull them out
and they’ll hop right back in the cage
and call themselves happy

you think anyone was looking
out the window of the World Trade Center
9/11, 9:03 am?
she’d see a mammoth jet
zooming directly at her
becoming colossal in a split second
and she wouldn’t believe it
until she did

judgmental and uninformed
as enticing as bad teeth
but i would be too polite to point this out