Monday, April 11, 2011

NaPoWriMo, Day 11

The first is from a prompt of "Maybe (blank)". The second is to write a poem of at least 40 lines that is one continual sentence. 

Maybe we need a do-over

I'm tired of seeing all of the dishes
clustered in the bottom of the sink.
I don't want to deal with extra work
when I'm exhausted from being on my feet
all day, it's just annoying,
but it's my fault, too.

I wasn't cut out to landscape the terrain
of a large yard, being pale and prone to
sunburn and getting dive bombed by
supercharged bugs that have been mass
breeding before the cold snap.

The strain of never being able to pay
anything on time is getting to me,
and I'm restless and constantly tossing
and turning in the bed every night.

I'm waiting for the next catastrophe to
happen in this house, where everything seems
to cost ten times what we can ever afford.

I'm holding my breath for the next time that
some clueless moron rolls a little too far
at a stop sign and destroys another car of mine.

Something tells me that I wasn't cut out for this.

Dear Natalie

I just wanted to
let you know that
I've been thinking about
you and how your
dad is doing since
everything that
went down and
continues to go
down in that whole
mess of a relationship
that really somehow
got to be a giant
clusterfuck, and I
probably shouldn't
use words like
clusterfuck when I talk
to you since you're, I think,
three years old now,
but you should know
that you're my
favorite out of all
of the kids that my
brother (your dad)
had with that fuck up
that pretends to be
your mom,
and I think you'll be
the most fun to
hang out with and to
get to know if I
could ever get my ass
back up to see you
guys, but life has this
way of really tiring
the hell out of me
and doesn't make me want
to do much besides stare
into space and from time
to time stuff my fat face,
and I really hope you
remember me because I think
the role of uncle is a bit
more important than some
people think it is,
especially when, really,
you're going to need as
many allies as you can get
in this fucked up world,
so I hope you're doing ok,
because I think about you
a lot and besides, I really
want to be there when you
finally rip that fucking
lip ring out of
your dad's lip.


1 comment:

  1. I can't believe you manage to write two poems a day! I have trouble with one. I think you've done an excellent job with them. I love your take on the 40 line sentence. I'm working on one of those myself, for tomorrow.

    You can find my poem here: