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Tag Archives: people
Sitting Here Beside You
I struggle internally
With things of no real importance.
Take, for instance
That tonight the moon
Is important
The fire before us
Is important
The music, yes, the music
Is always important
The wine the wine the wine
Might be of some importance
Our friends
So important
And you beside me
Well,
That’s most important of all
And I want to be here
Right now
In every way
Because one day
I won’t be here
You won’t be here
The fire will be gone
Funny that I think of
such sad things
Funny that I steal time
from myself away
from where I should be
funny that I do that
at times like these
funny I can’t help it.
You of Raging Self-Importance
A piranha in a power shirt.
A vacuum cleaner salesman at midnight.
An emperor at a garage sale
at my door
under my car
in my backyard
down my shirt
ten carat
thousand watt
billboard
colgate
prime time
smile
It’s never enough
to rule the world
ask anybody
at the chalet.
All of you
of raging self-importance:
I am tired.
You need to stop
being so rich.
I’m running up a
descending escalator.
I’m always out of breath
out of time
out of mind.
I’ve got to get to work.
I’ve got to survive.
I lost my shoe…
Ice Cream Truck Goes To Mars
When you’re high
or drunk
or both
it fucks up your piss
you think you’re done
or don’t
are you?
You’re not sure
but how long are you going to
just stand there
with your dick hanging out
waiting to be seen
maybe you want to be seen
you dirty fuck
so on that
you put it away
and walk a half block
further into darkness
only to have to piss again
and the dance continues
but it’s not a dance
perhaps people throughout
the centuries have struggled
with this maddeningly human
scenario of
pulling it out
only to put it away again and…
Do you hate me?
Do you love me?
Am I feeble
livid
reckless?
What am I after all
but just another
mad animal
rampaging through
the technology driven
wilderness?
And you consider
how you never calculate
into your day
the pisses
the shits
the eats
you never have as much time
as you think
ever
because you eat too much
you’re far too comfortable
without predators
you shit too much piss
way too much
and you don’t fuck at all
anymore
you might as well
be quarantined.
You’re a lost cause
aren’t you?
I really don’t know…
fuck it.
Ice cream truck goes to Mars.
Dogs
Sometimes our dogs eat better than us
are better than us
can be much more spiritually profound
can show us the way.
They are definitely happier
far more expressive
defiantly loyal
unbreakable in friendship
will die protecting you
and can bring such joy into
the hearts and minds of both young and old.
But for this simple reason alone I prefer cats:
They don’t give a shit
and will leave me the fuck alone.
They also leave dead mice on the floor that’s
always a plus.
The Dust of Long Dead Sheep
I almost feel like begging
for the big grand knife or
the slender shivering blade
in these abundant alleyways
filled with uncertain strangers
with cartoon eyes and
teeth yellowed from manic sweets
(clowns, jugglers, thieves
in sharp expensive suits)
but all that they do
is kill me with conversation
until sleep gravity takes me down
wondering
why
the pen is too often so heavy
when everything else seems so much
like air filled with
the dust of long dead sheep
and the constant drum
of outdated machinery.
Everything Becomes Nothing
We abate
softly
into nothingness
into finality
into the darkness
beneath a great empty canvas
and so on this certain passing
I felt almost touched
and almost
momentarily elated
if you will
from the brooding vacuous maelstrom
that has become most days
it was somewhat like catching
the whisper of an echo
in a backroom
or hearing the flight
of a hummingbird
at the other end
of the garden,
catching a ghost
at the edge
of a photograph,
reaching out and
touching dust
floating in sunlight,
absorbing the strain
of a single violin
in a blazing symphony
or feeling the breeze
that barely bends the meadow.
As fleeting as fireflies
we become to each other.
Just give it a little time
and everything
becomes nothing.
A Sunday in Author, Ontario
On the shoulders
of the main road
a procession of Mennonites
mournfully advance.
Black after black after
black.
They move along solemnly
like a cluster
of weary crows.
The Last Thaw of Spring
I kick an old flyer
onto the road.
The wind blows it
right back.
Debris has conquered the streets
-trash unleashed from ice like artifacts-
as across the lawns
the mounds of snow
have melted down
to last November.
Empty Vessels
Some people are such
empty vessels
that it fills me with pain
until I look away.
hernanjmonzon.com 