Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Three Pieces by Joseph Goosey

EVERYTHING SHAMEFUL

There are holes in the walls
of my mouth. I get nervous, well,
not nervous but frightened
of conversation sometimes
as though the other person
will immediately, without warning,
begin to list in chronological
order everything shameful
I have done or
will do and it is night and
cold and a good time
to observe cars passing
and old deteriorating women
stealing the companies' petunias
from the pots. The wind sounds
a bell and I might not be around
to bury my two cats,
Oscar and Katy.

__________________________

Bookstore Credit

It is 9:20AM
and I am scurrying along
the walls
of downtown.

There is a crate in my hand.
The crate is filled with hardbound books.
Some books were purchased
for one dollar, others for thirty.
Some books were found,
others stolen.

I am going to see
if maybe I can sell
any of them
back to a used
bookstore
from which I take
free beer
in exchange
for reading poems
monthly.

It is raining.
I don't think I have ever seen
so much fucking rain
on a Florida
street.
I am shielding the books
from the rain with the shirt
off of my back.
I might be crying but
I wouldn't know
one way or another
because
of the rain.

There passes a lawyer,
here a doctor,
a gallery owner,
a maker of sandwiches.
Some look in my direction,
others pretend
not to.

I walk into the bookstore.

A bell sounds
to signal
my arrival.

The man, the dry man,
puts most of the books back
into my crate.

He says
we have
these

titles.

He asks
cash or book-
store

credit?

I want the credit
so badly but
I need the cash.
Without it,
I may not make it
home and
my girl might go
feral.

He says
9 dollars
cash.

I say OK but
it really is not
OK at all.

My crate and I
venture back out
into the rain.

There is nothing, really,
that can be written
in response
to such
circumstances.

________________________________

No Family

Cars go streaming by
with Church
cut Christmas
trees
tied firmly
to their
roofs.

There is a hole
in my lip
from
holiday
nervousness.

I spit pink upon the bricks.

Hello.

Yes. You do the same.

No. No family coming in.

Yes. It will be
quiet.


Joseph Goosey recently discovered how little joy can be found in the
fruits of literary labors. Also, he has a chapbook available via
Poptritus Press.He thanks you for reading.

1 comment:

dtrickky said...

Awesome stuff!!!
I will be back again soon.