"mazel" poems
we're on a break,
meaning we catharsis ****
often in public places,
often with an edge of violence,
much like the session in the
family restroom, here at
Big Daddy's Bar-B-Que (travesty, travesty).
still waiting for Em to to finish "tidying up."
and the brisket is salty.
or it's the leftovers from her forehead.
she should have cut her fingernails.
thinking of a way to hide the blood trails
running wild on the back of my t-shirt.
catharsis, she says. it's healthy, she says.
Elvis croons over the arcane stereo system
and a white-haired woman with gelatinous
arms taps her fingers on the tabletop along
to "Teddy Bear."
the waitress keeps a hawk's eye on my
half-empty/half-full glass of water.
and I'm afraid to take a drink.
here comes Em. she's an athlete. and we're on a break,
meaning we don't see each other's parents.
don't nod and listen.
and don't say things like, "oh yeah, your sister Sarah. how's she?"
hallelujah, hallelujah. Em played point guard in high school.
her last official sporting endeavor. but twenty minutes ago
she told me to look up a complicated position
via iKamastutra on my phone
because she's an athlete, and I'd be "amazed at what
this
machine [her body]
can do."
but I hate when she says **** like that.
catering to an I'm-almost-certain-peg
of my fantasy. harder, harder
and before I finish, she insists on
swallowing
and
it makes me uncomfortable
but
we're on break, and to argue
would be a crucifixion to this "vacation."
I think about Elvis.
and wonder if any
woman is still alive that
swallowed his ***
and when it's down
to just one, does that mean
anything?
"well that was fun," Em says.
her mascara wasted.
the brisket is salty.
I take a generous drink of water.
I hear the sound of breaking glass.
the waitress has busted
a bottle of ketchup in her
rush to refill my 2/3rds empty cup.
"mazel tov," I say.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
"good luck," they think it means.
brides, grooms, hell, even the kids in the club.
and the notion that the phrase comes with the
shattering of glass under a custom print napkin--
just wrong.
it's important to be mindful of what mazel tov means in
that moment, sure, but it's also
important to be mindful of what mazel tov
means in the everyday. the ritual.
see, mazel tov means "what good fortune."
and I know, I know, sounds pretty
**** close to "good luck."
but think about the glass.
all these tiny pieces to pick up
and you say, "good luck."
have fun picking up the shards.
don't cut your finger.
saying "good luck" in that moment
makes you an *** but "what good fortune"
sounds like you got something up your sleeve.
and you should. in this life, always. always
a few tricks. you know when I was little,
my mother asked me what I wanted to be
when I grew up and I told her, I said,
"I want to be a magician."
her response, "you can't do both."
she's right. that's no profession for an adult,
but you can be an adult and a
magician on the side, as a hobby,
that's alright.
wait.
what was I talking about?
magicians, magicians, oh. tricks.
how else are you going to get by?
mazel tov is a mind trick.
see, we say "what good fortune"
when the glass breaks to reframe the
situation. what's your reaction
to that sound? your ears perk up--
if ears can actually do that, I don't know--
the hairs on your neck stand up.
I guess they can't really stand in the conventional
sense, but, well, you feel the space of a room.
and after that beautiful sound, and I mean beautiful,
you are forced to take everything else into account.
you don't want anything else to break. what matters most,
you know? that's why we say "what good fortune."
I'm delighted to know something as worthless
as glass has broken. because now I'm more
careful with what's valuable to me. right?
you spill soda on a cloth seat in your new car.
mazel tov.
now you don't have to be paranoid
every time your nephew climbs in with an Icee.
it's material crap. just crap. you're alive.
you've got a car. be thankful for what you have.
reframe, you know?
your girlfriend, your wife leaves you for a
former high school quarterback turned
owner of a lawn service company.
another casualty of the sweaty, lemonade-fueled fantasy.
once again, mazel tov.
you are so lucky you didn't spend the rest
of your life with her. the glass shattered.
it's a beautiful sound.
Feb 28, 2013
Feb 28, 2013 at 4:34 PM UTC
there was this girl i used to know
she was like this
skateboard girl
tangly hair girl
homemade pretzel girl
fire escape girl
cigarette girl
different when it was just us girl
tough girl
tomboy girl
save the animals girl
god knows where she is now girl
mazel tov, ******* girl
god, i was so hooked on you girl
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
You don't like love
You just know time is a tickin'
Life is a bomb, and the heart is the victim
Eyes big with ambition
And wanting bad ******* becomes
The way you feel free, but it's krypted
It's a trap for those who are less gifted
The ignoramus who your teachers depicted
As the ones
You don't wanna become
You waste your day away the way you make
Your world say ****** words about your being
Striving to be the "spice" of the night
But you didn't think twice
Stuck your tongue in a vice
And it bit you with the venom
Now you're scarred up for life
In the mind there are things like,
Demons you shouldn't expose to light
Look beyond the little temporary pleasures
Find what's left in life for your face to elate to
Long live the bad ******* you didn't need
They gonna find the right man, indeed
Tell them mazel tov, and tell yourself
There's plenty people for me
And keep swimming, indefinitely
You're a lost soul half stepping
The pain of the game got you trippin
Thought the head was whatever
That place was good, but this is better
Smile and shake a new hand for the change
Reaching happiness inside, you're not far from range.
Don't trend like the words a poet site
Strive for success and live life right
Not taking no for an answer
Lift the sagging pants up
And walk with dignity into your dream
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 4:45 AM UTC
It was a year that looked good on checks,
at the top of every newspaper: 2013.
I grew thin running laps around Toluca
Lake, thinking the whole time it was a poor substitute
for the ocean. I was employed and in love in
Oklahoma City. I was unemployed and alone
in Tuscumbia, Alabama. Everything was blind.
Everything was deaf, my desire buried in salt
and coffee lingered on my breath. 2013. I'm younger.
I'm stronger. I'm persistent and there's an actual comb in my actual hair.
And I'd pass by you like a jewelry store window, my mind
half a brick. Shatter the modest glass. Mazel tov? Do you know what
that means? What good fortune. Why do they say what good
fortune? It's a compact lesson in reframing. And I frame myself
for ****** And I frame myself on the refrigerator. And I frame
my last check. And I frame my arguments on my back, in a swimming
pool, thinking of Toluca Lake.
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 7:47 PM UTC
lunch?
yes, lunch.
what will it be,
herr vielefurz? bring me,
oh noble page,
3 czech beers.
funny,
as a pole, i can
see the downfall
of germany,
and as nietzsche
predicted,
the deutsche:
wächter von kreuz...
and to see it,
well... i am seeing
germany topple,
and i didn't
even have to lift
a finger,
well, i had to do something:
so i farted while
sitting in an armchair;
in polish it sounds
a bit different:
mazel tov!
oh wait, that's jewish...
á jom patru patru na to szambo,
i se myślom... pinknie...
i se pier**dziáłem w fotel
na to ganz popierdolenie:
ojra ojra, hurrrrr'ah!
sto lat takich lat jak tych!
sto lat, sto lat, niech żyje nam,
sto lat, sto lat, niech żyje nam!
eins hundret, eins hundret,
damit leben für uns!
germany... it's your.... birthday!
wanna see the prezzies?
ah... go on... titanic is sinking,
might as well open them,
while the orchestra plays!
orchestra! play! play!
and let us sing:
sha! shtil! makht nisht keyn gerider
der rebe geyt shoyn tantsn vider
sha! shtil! makht nisht keyn gevalt
der rebe geyt shoyn tantsn bald...
and they took their root into the home
they made, and made their
language the mongrel ******* of
yiddish...
while in poland:
they still spoke with a "funny" accent...
as stanisław wokulski
would testify, in the novel
the doll, by bolesław prus.
p.s. i once heard a jew complain
that he be called that,
a jew...
ah... but wouldn't it be
more offensive, if i called you
a *** he blushed,
and took off his kippah;
well then,
hebrye.
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 10:47 AM UTC