Poetry
A Collection
By Michael
Internicola
TWO FOR TUESDAY
when i pass savannah, georgia and the clouds
are there and zz top did what they did i see blue
skies again. mississippi that way. up and down the
other. pearl jam in raleigh, north carolina tonight
and it's all about the freedom now even when i
don't realize it's making me happy. sometimes,
i get so free i forget. i forget i don't know where
my home is. i forget that girl i used to know.
there's bad news before exit 109. terrible crash.
news crews already there. a guy running across
interstate 95. it is the middle of april. the concert
is killer. red necks and preppies though. 37 dollars
to our name. they wouldn't even let me buy beers
without my id. hicks. next day i find myself eating
a turkey sub in a gas station parking lot because it's
so god damn nice out. new york can wait for me there.
i still got dick going but being on the road these last
three months has certainly changed things. my birthday
is in three weeks. thirty two years of age. i'll be lucky
to get a phone call. i don't give a shit. anyway--
heading to richmond to fag off with those punks.
hardly anyone around anymore. wall and his kids.
pauly and matty with the girls. new york city life is so
different. i wonder what sar's up to. i hope she's fine.
junior stole van halen's 1984 outta the sub joint. girl gone
bad is on and we're going about 80 down this stretch. god signs
and semi's everywhere. blown tires and trees forever. junior's
driving and going crazy inside and to think that this all
happen only a couple weeks back. i was walking down the street
and junior said we had three options: vegas, san fran or fla.
i've been or at least passed thru all three. in a matter of a day,
a day after i met a beautiful girl named natalie, i was gone for
three straight weeks. i've written her as best i could. i wrote
about the other one as best i could. take your time, sari. find love.
in virginia nothing looks different. emporia is ten miles away.
wherever the fuck that is.
GOOSE
ain't a little bit off
she's a lotta bit off
in her pink h & m jacket
and steve madden shoes
she hardly drinks on weekdays
follows weight watchers
people
her mother
her friends at work
goose falls asleep at 9:30 every night
her walls are white
the same color as forever
i sit on the couch and try not
to fuck up the cushions
i smoke all day while she's on the job
i ash in the bowls she uses for soup
now 25, she wants to meet a boy who
doesn't mind being tied down,
an anchor in her glass of water
she tells me she can't take it anymore
when i call her fat ass
that only happen once
she won't wear a wig
she won't do shots at the bar anymore
she doesn't like my clothes anymore either
side by side in her bed, she says she can smell
my breath through my nostrils
you smell like cigarettes she tells me
i don't want you smoking in here,
there's pubic hair everywhere,
quit snotting in the shower,
using my razor,
buy some tp,
you don't like anybody,
get a job,
pay some rent,
i want you to make plans,
i love you,
call me if you're gonna be out all night,
i want babies,
michael doesn't want to marry me,
throw your sneakers out,
get new ones,
guys hit on me all the time when i'm out,
i want diamond earrings,
you're not funny anymore,
why aren't you writing,
quit yelling,
my stomach hurts,
my mother is so smart,
mark and sandra are coming in,
get a place of your own,
don't eat my food,
no newspapers on the blankets,
you're a cliché,
you never make any sense,
i hate my clothes,
all the girls at work have nice everything,
it's not even,
your not good in bed anymore,
i feel bad for my dad,
for olivia,
i feel like an old married couple,
my closet is too small,
don't rent porno under my name anymore,
your like your father,
i want ice cream,
why can't ever do what i want to do,
my people magazine didn't come,
i want a coffee and toasted bagel with butter,
my show's on,
lisa wants to know if you can watch sean on friday,
you don't talk,
turn down the t.v.,
i forgot to take my pill,
i'm fat,
no eating past ten,
i miss my grandpa,
come to the jersey shore and see my parents with me,
you never come through,
what do you want to eat,
you're a racist,
i want a cat
do you think about me all the time she asks
huh, i answer looking at the ugly cabinet on the wall,
the pictures of us happy in paris,
in vegas,
in italy,
in key west together
what she says
i wonder why i love you at all i tell her
you cut me a million ways
IT TAKES GUTS TO PUT HURT ON PAPER
i'm trying to figure out where the road is to
even get to the road and there's everything burning
from the path behind me and she's gone,
my best friend is gone.
i lost my best friend and our love is very very bad.
only yesterday i spent the holidays comfortable relying
on her for a bed, clean sheets and some food
but she never asked about the writing and i'll never forget about that.
i hold my breath as long as i can with
my no money and the rejection letters piling up.
it's not for everybody to be here.
so i can't help but wonder if the old me in that room we left made it better
or
will i always be as small as that apartment i was in trembling all over.
VIBRANT
sometimes i burn so bad but she don't
know it. she don't know it when she rubs
my feet or asks me to shave. she don't know
my favorite song or what makes me put
my fist thru the wall. she can't understand
the stand i've made. she don't understand that
sometimes writing is just a thought when nobody's
around. that's why she gets drunk and kicks
at my door while i'm fucking. she says something
about the g i lent her or me saving her
relationship was bullshit. probably was but
it's just writing. just like the old man getting
grinded at the go go. he has permission to
get blowjobs. his name is the hammer. everything
is just dealing with the loneliness. when a man
loves something it's everything to him. he will
follow it into the black, into the guilt, into the big ass,
the old photographs, the stupid shit he's
said and she'll be waiting in harms way while
the oceans settle and she'll tell him to keep
on writing her bad love poems while the black crowes
play in the background of a super
market parking lot on a dull summer day.
WORKING OUT HERE OR EMBARRASSMENT OVER THE SENTIMENTALITY OF LOVE
it's not even she told me. you
never come through, your never around.
your writing is more important than me and
then she cried and i sat there picturing
myself in front of the sun next to the
love of my life and when i turned to that
love of my life her man showed up next
to her and she left him and she went for
a swim in the water. her sister came out
and the guy and her started taking pictures.
i got a hard on looking at the girl's body.
when i looked up at sari her eyes were
on me. your mean she told me. can't
do this anymore. i don't want to fuck.
i want to make love. i couldn't move
from the couch. i lit up a cigarette and
thought of the girl in front of
the sun. the birds were flying then and
the three of them were still taking pictures. she
remembered my name and said it just like
sari used to do. the tide was easy. the
islands blended nicely with the clouds and i
was saved from everything. the long boats
and children in the water were there. god
damn it, baby come and love me past palm trees
and grapefruit suns. what you say
sarah asked. nothing, kid. nothing at all
and then love sunk slowly into the
ocean and i gave up trying.
