Me and Dorje Drollo -- Chicken Pot-Pie

Dorje Drollo comes in. Dorje Drollo!

He looks around the kitchen. He sees that the oven is on. He looks closely at what is in here, cooking, bubbling.

"Chicken pot-pie?" he asks loudly.

"Chicken pot-pie." I reply.

"Chicken POT-PIE!!?!" Dorje Drollo roars, laughing, knocking a pot down.

"CHICKEN POT-PIE!!!" I yell, half laughing.

"CHICKEN POT-PIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!" screams Dore Drollo, sparks flying off his eyebrows, the house shaking to the foundation.

"CHICKEN POT-PIE!!!!" I scream, holding onto the fridge for dear life.

"Sounds good." says Dorje Drollo, when the dust has settled.

Babies are crying downstairs. I think the cops are coming to the front door.

"Yeah, it is good." I reply. Because it is.

Poem - there's too much pain

-- Another shitty poem, but I like certain parts and I didin't want to fix it and break the good stuff

there's too much pain
(now i've copped it -- actually took
a position on this)

ok but the pain isn't that bad
i have a high tolerance for pain
through several doomed &
disastrous relationships
a broken wrist
lacerations rejection

going on looking optimistic because
it helps others feel better
and why rain on a parade
joy is rare don't fuck it

and

everyone makes it through
we all do make it through

you can say you didn't make it
but if you ain't dead
you're just fine

Poem - what the hell is failure?

some jackass said
"failure is not an option"
but in times like this
what the hell is failure?

we're all collectively
making things right &
getting things done
despite everything

i don't see anyone giving up
nobody is quitting but
it hurts and we get along
we get along and it is done

Story of the Bum

I have this bum look going on. It isn't easy to get the bum look going, you have to work it. I still get everything done, dot every 'i' and cross every 't'. But when you see me, all you'll see is a bum.

Probably tomorrow I'll get a haircut and practice good posture, then you'll think I'm someone else -- a guy who is as clean, flashing and fresh as a newly minted quarter.

Flashback

When the winter wind blows but there is no snow, just a lead colored sky -- I have a flashback of the summer gone, when I was alone in the backyard trying to get a nice tan on my legs.

A Short Story in November, Before it Started Snowing

This weekend, on Sunday, I cleaned someone's kitchen. I don't know why I did it. But the kitchen was clean when I was done.

The person I cleaned for didn't give a goddamn. They wanted the kitchen clean, but when I was done, they were mad and stood disapprovingly in a spick-and-span kitchen.

Now I know acutely why some religions believe in the Fall From Innocence, and blame it on Adam and Eve.

Poem - what you think

i dream i have a large house
old and a bit scary

here is wide staircase in blue light
and the house is actually me

it is built to test people

everyone i've ever met

but watch out what you think
we all have a large house

with a big staircase that is scary
blue with ghost lights

Poem - This Will be Posted on the Free Notification Area at my Local Supermarket

home
car
store
(poem)
cart
aisles
food
checkout
bags
(poem)
car
bags
home