Tuesday, September 12, 2023

The Stairs I Sleep On

The funny thing about a poem 

is it doesn't have to be good

it just has to be written.

If it is unwritten it is worse than bad

it is non-existent.

If it is non-existent then you can't have

your token existential crisis.

And what would you do with yourself then?

Go back to Zen

Go back to backyard barbecues

Go back to pool cues and railroad tracks

abandoned cars and factories and 

the elevator that they told you to never take all the way down to the basement

The giant building on Pershing and 37th

that used to be a place

where thousands of people worked

is now a little like a Ghost town

and they rent out areas for companies

like the sound company I worked for

to store gear

and I always took the stairs.

I passed the little office window

where they used to put in time cards

and imagined the factory workers

It was strange and so desolate

on of many insane things I've done

not more insane than not writing 

a poem though.

It's so simple.

Why be scared?

It's not an elevator going down to a boogie man

it's not a strange basement in a whore house

covered in blood and grime

and salesmen with smiles

and frozen handshakes

It's not a rotten deal

It's not a politician's crime

It's just a poem

it's just a line.