so i don’t get out much
i just discovered Billy Collins
he is now my favorite poet
i want to read all of his works
i love his common everyday
rich imagery
i hope i can learn from him
***
write about a cockroach
that is barely alive
just enough
to barely crawl
from the water cooler
to the living room floor
and that’s when
i ended
his travels
and then didn’t
want to pick him up
so i took my fly swatter and
szhooshed him
under the dresser
i didn’t want to pick him
up and feel his crushed
brittle body
***
Where would I’d rather be?
living in a tiny house
simply: one big T.V.
siting in a heated swivel recliner
besides my wife
in the evening
OR
swiveling in a heated recliner
besides my wife
watching our big screen T.V.
with nothing much else
book cases containing eighty percent less
books that we never have read
I wake up early
and yet there are lots of other
people who wake up
a lot earlier than i do
and i’m tired
and throughout the day
my tiredness becomes exhausted
until the afternoon
where i’m hung over
due to lack of sleep
like a giraffes neck
hanging low drinking
lacking all grace of a
girrafe’s neck hung low
curved as a arrow set on a bow
i’m reading a poem
about sking down
drawing random
lines in snow
and i got to think
it reminds me of a
Brice Marden
abstract line painting
if i would ever need
to describe skiing
down a snow banked hill
like an abstract Marden
stick painting
there is something
about drinking water
from my double-walled
vacuumed sealed bottle
with my lips
hanging on the
clean stainless steel rim
instead of sucking it out of the
thick straw plastic spout
a Guy Who Types 