Posts tagged ‘West Bank’

January 26, 2018

waiting for the green line train at west bank station in the snow and cold and heat around 4:36 p.m.

the smell of a late afternoon lunch
enough, enough for snow to melt
imagining debt without a time clock
or vise versa–in some time only fixated…
dusting between keys on a keyboard, jet black
creating something like this, and that, unnoticed unawares
moby-dick for meaning of meaningful meaning
they tell me i have books to pick up
some stand on the shelves like straight soldiers
some crack like and egg in my hand at breakfast
they tell me have a good weekend & we just got over the flu
google will better my photo of West Bank, only soon
words won’t come so easy after that tune
some things just look better in digital format
i will wait for the train, again, here
amongst people who wait for the train, again, here
praising not having to wait for her, once were
wondering what’s in that guys hand, that guys bag
no one puts things on the floor anymore
picking up my little man
waiting for another to arrive–O’ plans: we had
and he asked me what i was eating as if it were bad
i told him what and who made it, of course
man my stomach was starting to feel good just then
thought this before the train came.

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November 12, 2014

Connect to St. Paul

Follow steam as it floats
On our daily commute,
Orange eastern horizon,
Thoughts of warm soup.

Eyes locked on the bus
Swaying back and forth,
Come along on this ride,
Again, feeling so north.

Travelling tainted ways,
Thinking of pins and pine,
Bundled people walking-
Beyond the glass, outside.

Seasons to be discussed,
Roads to pass as we go,
Men in boots and gloves
Shovel hard at the snow.

Now these sitters travel
Careful as what to pack,
Each to make way here,
In hopes to make it back.

What more could we ask?
What more could we ask?

September 20, 2014

Situation ( how I talk ): drinks after class

Situations ( how I talk ): drinks after class

So,
I’m at a convenient store on West Bank
Dust blowing in the wind
on a partially torn up sidewalk,
At a convenient store on West Bank

Right?
That’s where-
Okay,

So,
I’m in line to get cigarettes,
With a friend,
And my contact falls to the floor
Blurry and shit,

-This pain.

I can’t see…
It’s on the ground,
Patting my shirt, do you see?

I gleam the phosphorescence of it in the dim florescent light,
On the dirty floor,
What those had tracked in,
Just before.

You know,
I pick it up.

Ali’s behind the counter selling cigarettes
Big bright smile
Looks at me

Hey, do you have any…

He doesn’t have solution;
But he can help,
Standing there, palming the lens

I tell him to give me some Visine

I unbox it
Reluctantly-
I pop the top
With the ease of expertise

Sit at a table
Some people are eating,
Watching,
They get up and leave

I’m putting my eyeballs in.

Wetted the crumby table,
then I could see.

I wiped up what I had spilt.
And put the bottle in my bag to leave.

Thank you sir rang aloud as bells on the door-

Happily no longer in discomfort,
Then I walked across the street to Palmer’s.

August 12, 2014

Man Man at Triple Rock

Observant trend scene,
Heavy tattoo engrained,
Faux-tough and minor mean,
Façade, true, is claimed.

Street: Riverside, easy ride:
Perspective existing local,
Patched bags for small fries;
Real hipsters for yokels.

Through Cultures and Vultures,
Much Music and Trash-
Relative status shown vouchers,
Can’t see; bright lights we lack.

Stand in short lines outside.
Killing self with thin cigarettes;
Realize these lies through eyes,
One puff at a time, we forget-

Dive into undulating pool of people
Scuffed tennis shoes tied loose,
Sweat smell we breathe through-
Sip expensive cheap rail booze.

Catch the Route 2 Bus to be,
This night-life part of the city.
***
Motto: seen you there before, but never met, as in meet.
Standing dirty wet floor below feet until it’s time to leave.

July 8, 2014

Triple Double

we used to go to The Triple Rock on Tuesdays- every Tuesday;

they had 2-4-1’s:
two drinks for the price of one- natürlich,

we would stay late, dancing and sweating, and trying to get laid…

it was a spectacular spectacle, an idea with appeal; drink one-self half-silly,
amongst those of a similar age demographic,
-get lucky,
then attempt to maneuver treacherous city streets
on bike, in cars or cabs,
home.

the whole thing ended rather abruptly when a few kids couldn’t handle their liquor, words, and fists.

a fight broke out into the street,
under cigarette smoke, dim streetlamps, smell of stale beer in the air,
and the big kibosh was put on the entire coveted evening, the whole event was OVER.

the deal had turned into somewhat of a deal-breaker, and this was way before the wounds of those street-fighting kids  had healed;

egos and all.

so, what two things did we learn here?
if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is, and nothing lasts forever.

November 11, 2013

Free Money

As if others don’t know it,

As if labels couldn’t show it.

A lot of them talk what they want.

Mostly their walk is below their thoughts.    

 

More importantly (near Starbucks at Lind Hall):

 

I found two pennies on the ground this morning,

I bent down.

 

Not too demanding of a task,

Yet it was:

Change of mind.

Exchange, interact, a reaction of mine.

Someone had left this in my path as I passed.

 

Pay penance for epiphany.

Couldn’t care of the cash, as if it were a hundred dollar bill in the trash –

Composure relaxed.

 

I guess we try to save.

 

Avoiding slippery slopes,

Remembering my lines,

Laugh like joke.

Choke like smoke.

 

Here in due time.

Thoughts steadily moving towards hope.

Belief, what a crime!

 

And at this moment I glanced at my watch, just out getting coffee.

Ask me awfully- Why I look down…

You lost me.

 

Eyes move as I measure the cost.

 

I promise ADHD.

 

You never know what could be found.

Things what won’t happen again.

Until you next look at the ground.