He slams the door. Again.
Every morning my next-door neighbour
slams his front door and I am
totally pissed at the inconsiderate bastard.
Each morning at 7.00 AM, the noise skewers
my dreams and kick-starts my hangover.
Sleep drains through a crack in time
and is gone.
I would strangle the schmuck,
but I ain't got the energy.
Another day like any other--no promises,
not even false ones. No certainties
except, as sure as shit smells,
the door will slam again in the AM.
The joys of life. I scramble around for a butt,
find one, can't find my lighter.
Maybe today I'll look for a job.
A job. Regular paychecks, a shave
every day, a fresh shirt now and then.
Cut back on the booze, live clean.
Like the guy next door, a solid citizen
paying his taxes (voting even) and coming home
to a hot dinner and a cold wife.
Two-point-one kids and a car
parked out front. Manicured lawns.
What's the guy like? A boring fuck-head,
probably, with a mind full of corporate shit
and pre-packaged values.
On second thoughts, I'll stay in bed--
and in the morning I'll strangle the bastard!
A contest entry
- Ice Cream People by Dalaney.
900 points, ended November 30, 2007, 10 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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lol...I don't know if you meant this to be humorous, but I felt it was in many places, as well as being more than just a little bit human. Great stuff here, and I say, strangle the bastard 
Love, Lane

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Very cool and Americanized if there is such a word,loved this modern style,deserves gold.


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This is excellent, you have captured the mood perfectly.... I hate inconsiderate neighbours, mind you, I might be one to somebody else, now there's a thought!!
Good luck in the contest...Sue


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lol
I love this. Sounds so typical of todays urban world..Strangle the bastard but hide the body..

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Thanks, Bob--glad you like my little venture into "urban realism." Don't know if I've caught Bukowski's tone correctly, but I enjoyed the attempt!
Bill
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1 - 5 of 5



