a poem for brooklyn, michigan
i tried to write a poem about our trip to michigan
something about your grandma
- the one with the arthritic hands or whatever
calling a bukowski poem "sour"
i think it was past tense
i stopped writing and thought vaguely about baseball
a poem for brooklyn, michigan (pt. 2)
seems like we have only been to michigan once
but it feels like more
like i remember smoking marlboro smooth's
and drinking canadian whiskey from a snapple bottle
but i also feel like there was another time or something
like when i was smoking marlboro 27's
and maybe your extended family wasn't there
or like,
now i definitely remember there being two times
the first, being whiskey and marlboro smooths
the second, being watermelon vodka and marlboro 27's
it seems that one was maybe in mid-august
and the other was around the 4th of july
a poem for brooklyn, michigan (pt. 3)
i want to be sitting on the bench
- the one with the peeling green paint
in the grass next to the lake
between two strangers' houses
not really being anywhere, but not really having to be
smoking menthol cigarettes and drinking cherry flavored coffee
with you
...