Strikin' Out

uh, i got issues . . . not waving but drowning


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
Strikin’ Out
For once I’d like to know
what it’s like to knock one out of the park
in the bottom of the 9th
with the bases loaded to win the game
the game is havin’ the guts to talk
with some hot poet after a reading,
we’ll drink at the Bitter End,
we’ll tell each other how genius we are,
make out on the street,
go back to her place,
not to my shithole with the beer cans and porn stash
that would end the game with a big strike 3
back to her place--she’s got a soft bed
and a lamp with a red light bulb
my dick rises to the occasion for once
and we become a juggernaut couple like Zelda
and F Scott Fitzgerald
we finish our novels, get rich, quit our shit jobs,
eat hundred dollar dinners at Jake‘s every night--
the fantasy ends there
I dressed up like a little girl once
I don’t know what it means
last week after my reading, reeking of hubris and beer,
I figured if I can’t score now I never will
so I went to the Bitter End and lo and behold
the poet of my dreams was sittin’ alone sippin’ a PBR
hey, good job tonight, I said
[God, I sound creepy already and I can’t remember her name]
strike 1
she gives me an irritated look
Do I know you?
strike 2
I’m mike g from Tony’s
I sat next to you all night
Oh. Right, she said. you’re the creep
who was staring at my breasts.
What? No, I’m--
yeah, you’re mike g the creep
who reads nothin’ but confessional fluff
I know what you are.
But, you clapped.
I was being polite.
you laughed.
at you
Once when I was 5
I stuck a pencil up my ass
and jumped around like a bunny rabbit
I don’t know what it means.
But Tommy and Sauce think my shit’s good!
She shook her head slowly
left to right, left to right
No--they think you’re a fag
I’m gonna be the featured reader someday!
I’m mike freakin’ g!
No, you’re gonna be 86’d some day
soon if I have any say
and by the way, how’s that soft dick workin’ out for ya?
you should change your name to mike I’ll never get laid again.
Pathetic!
I used to play with my sister’s Barbie and Ken dolls
I’d press Ken’s plastic ass to my lips and kiss it over and over
I don’t know what it means.
Oh yeah--Strike 3