• About
  • About Me
  • Blog
  • My Work

dmseay

  • labor dispute

    July 28th, 2016

    the signs read, SHAME ON McGURK’S…LABOR DISPUTE…, the old man noticed as the car slowly drove-by…some honked…others not..

    labor dispute, the old man laughed, what the hell are they disputing?…always somethin,’…the thick Texas drawl mumbled on…

    i don’t know pop…i would imagine it’s a contract deal…maybe someone didn’t live-up to their word…

    labor dispute…says who?…I don’t know why they gotta stand on the side of the road like that..causin’ all that attention…

    to make a point pop…to make a point, kept driving…switching lanes…looking over at a man past his prime…maybe living longer than he should…,
    bunch ah’ babies what they are…never enough…never enough..

    enough what dad…

    hell…they’re never happy…you  could give ’em the world..

    that right pop…is that right…you ever been in a union pop…

    hell no…would never do such a thing…they owe the company…the company doesn’t owe them…, the old man scowled…lines formed on a forehead….

    and this owing you speak of…did you owe the company dad…did you…

    an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay…

    and you were taken care-of…provided for…’cause i don’t recall that dad…

    what’re you talking ’bout, turned down the radio…turned-up the air-conditioner…

    we moved from town to town…nothing stable…nothing…it was job to job to job pop…either they pissed you off or you pissed them off…

    that’s not the way…

    how was it then…tell me…you company man you…you Pinkerton of old…am i missing somthing…

    you don’t know what the hell your talkin’ ’bout…never do…just a bunch ah bullshit…that’s all…my affairs are my business…capeche..

    right pop…right…

    and we drove through town in silence…not a word…nothing…the old man didn’t look at me and i didn’t look at him…just drove…

    we went past old torn-down factories…used car lots…strip joints out on the edge of town…quiet…

    the next morning i left him to be by himself…broke…living on Social Security and an insurance policy from mom…

    haven’t seen him since…

  • get up

    July 28th, 2016

    not in the game aye..sittin’this one out…been there before…understood…we have our reasons now don’t we… no need to explain to me…

    did ya’ really think there was a chance…guy like you…really…that would be called delusional…yes…delusional…truth bites us all in the ass now doesn’t it…

    they don’t go for the likes of you old boy…never did…oh…there might be a spot ah fun here and there…maybe a  bit of the old onesy twosey comin your way…but don’t misconstrue that for anything more…right…right…

    what a sad sight…a truly depressing picture of humanity it is my friend when these escapades are fallen-for…aye…to see a man dwindled down to this…

    I’ll tell you friend…makes me wanna give ’em all a piece ah my mind…every last one of ’em…if they only knew aye…if only they knew…

    up with you now…go-on…get-up…stop all this…this sobbin’ for Christ’s sakes…it’s really beneath you…yes…yes…you…

    meet ya’ down the road a bit…a good drink and you’ll be back in the pink aye Charlie…right…

    now…on with it…go-on now…get-up…

  • the kiss

    July 27th, 2016

    whered’ya go..where…sent a search party out for ya’ in the middle of the night…flashlights…hounds sniffin’…tryin’ to find a trace…nothin’…

    there was tracks from long ago…left by others…who knows…probably been out there for years…runnin’…all of ’em…just runnin’…

    leavin’ lives behind ’cause they couldn’t take it no-more…some passionless life..dull…kisses that sent ’em nowhere…hopin’ for the moon…

    and runnin’ was all they knew how to do…lookin’ all around…cities…towns…trailer parks at four in the mornin’… the woods…outta hospitals where the freshly healed had been patched’up and sent back out into the wild…behind churches and abandoned cars with windows rolled down and torn interior…

    a never ending search…for that one kiss…

    is that where you went…

  • the poem

    July 26th, 2016

    i looked all over for you…no-where..gone for good.. never one to stick around…

    prayers at St. Xavier’s…visited each station…lit candles…just like we used to…remember that…in the name of the Father…the Son…and the Holy Spirit…

    walked ’round Washington Square…bums on benches…protest signs…selfies sent into space…no-longer…magic was missing…words vanished..empty…

    and at Union…nothing…junkies walking on stilts…spice-heads floating above… hopeless heading no-where…candy-bar wrappers mixed in with autumn’s paint…no-one had seen ya’….

    down by the Hudson…where meditative states took us away from troubles mounting in Manhattan…reading and chanting for inner-peace while plotting the next move…nothing concrete…come- out…come-out

    i looked for traces of poetry at The Port Authority…3 in the morning… a tranny said she saw a lyric earlier…but nothing stuck… waltzed down 8th Avenue…nobody called-out…no-one cared….

    the poem is gone…never coming back…maybe it found a warm seat on the subway…or…a cool cocktail lounge Uptown…gone is gone…

    we’ll meet again…when money’s tight…when a broad breaks your heart…when you’re hungry again…when you’re hungry…

    til then…all bets are off…

  • don’t mind me

    July 25th, 2016

    she walked along the Northshore night…listening… songs from past…oldies…she liked those…

    sometimes a sorprano voice would sing…call…no-one was near…pathway…jagged rocks climbed…stones skipped…never was i known…

    stars… waves befriended her.. counseled…through sickness… fallen friendships… loss of love…water’s words soothed…nothing else could…

    nature… purity giving hope…painted toes glistened..sandals carried…waves from boats rolling…sending messages…yes…yes…

    let’s stay out on this eve…til dawn comes…it will … new day granted…yet..in this moment…let us be…please…

    you at peace…this i ask..wash your feet… sing-out…you will be heard…you will be heard…

    and i will watch…

  • reunion

    July 25th, 2016

    say he went crazy…just got-up and quit one day…spent years in the bug-house… booby-hatch…crazy farm…that’s what I heard…

    went off and married some hooker in Bangladesh…maybe it was Bangkok…anyway…it was a prostitute…probably Asian…he always liked the exotic…too damn exotic for likes of ’round here…

    d’ya ever really talk to the guy…strange…read books all the time…listened to jazz…what a nut-case… he’s rottin’ away in some mental ward…wouldn’t ‘sprise me…

    spotted up in Chicago….then he went everywhere a soul could go…flyin’ ’round America on foot…hitchin’ rides from truckers…odd jobs…livin’ in homeless shelters…sleepin’ under bridges…beggin’ in the streets like one ah those foriegn Gypsies in Paris…who knows…who cares

    d’ya try the pizza rolls…

  • heads or tales

    July 24th, 2016

    and you’re in this for what…love…sex…aspirations of greatness…forget it..this is out of your jurisdiction…this cannot be controlled…only you can prevent forest fires…right…

    but…you say this can be done…these dreams made of fairy dust at midnight…go ahead…be my guest.. I’m not gonna’ watch…a man being slaughtered is not in my interest…never has been…

    you…you’re different…see things maybe that I don’t..hell…maybe I don’t wanna’ see…ever think ah that.. maybe this deal…this cooked-up notion in your head is just that…a half-baked deal only you have…not the rest of us…

    think about it my friend…nobody else is carrying a torch…not a one of us is thinking of future engagements…just the here and now…that’s clarity…yes…clarity…

    so…go ’bout this business of happiness…see how far it’ll getcha…I’ll take that action..what’d you say…

    you make the call….

  • asleep

    July 24th, 2016

    Miller’s folks were Nordic…that is to say idiots…the unsophisticated…the inept…not intellectualy curious in the least…Protestants to be sure…there is either a heaven or hell don’t you know…

    all through life an escape was planned…leave this Nordic pride far far behind…books were read…travels made…the exotic explored…only to discover what…this Nordic life was epidemic…

    the black and white only…scared of art…fear of sex…what’d you mean you’re not voting….this expectation in participation of numbness…no life…just dead weight…eat..drink and shit all on cue…clean…very clean…

    no smells of spilt wine…nor burnt garlic…no dance…nor embrace..only  antiseptic…an on-going air of forever Monday morning….work work work was the order…eating…drinking…merriment…that was for fools ..those that did not awake in the American dream…those that did not awake…

    well…im still asleep…not in darkness…not in darkness..

  • i listen

    July 23rd, 2016

    he sits in that chair throughout the day and night…eating ice-cream floats…Pepsi poured over chocolate…flipping through channels swiftly…taking-in nothing…just pictures flying through air…

    go get me some doughnuts, the old man orders, and another 24 case…we’re outta’ Pepsi aren’t we…can’t have that…run on up to the store now…I’ll pay ya’ later..,some things never change…

    this old man…this worn-out would’ve could’ve should’ve patriarch of peasants… now in the September of his years…and the sweetness of autumn does not ring true…not for him…

    I never read a book, he told me, never ever wanted to…it bores me…no interest in it at all…just didn’t…don’t know why, continuing to go through the cable line-up…

    remembering the times of questions..school work…math..pop was a mathematician…logic..this world was built on logic…

    a young boy needing help with equations…only to be shoved away..swatted with Playboy’s, Bo Derek issue rolled-up in hand…, Can’t you see I’m busy…, i see dad…i see…

    you know…I’ve had dinners at The New York Athletic Cub…The Los Angeles Athletic Club…and The Louisville Athletic Club…you pull outta a cigarette in those joints they light it for ya’right on the spot…kinda places I used to go to…you ever been in any of those?…no pop…i have not….I didn’t think so….

    that was always the case…an insecure man who went from the breast of his mom to the teats of his wife…not a single minute alone…always in the company of caretakers…always…always…

    and now the old man sits…puzzled… confused…dazed by what life has dealt…blow by blow by blow…ever so bitter…

    and me…i listen…

  • no-one

    July 23rd, 2016

    hours spent…looking….for what… connections… old friends…comrades who took you in…fed and clothed…gave warmth to…listened…remember me….

    past lovers… those that got away…or left…split on nights when insanity got to be too much…that’ll happen…nothing’s a sure thing…

    with a blue light a-glow…in darkness…looking for names…photographs…familiar faces…hoping…just hoping you are not forgotten…past sins forgiven…no judgements made…this never-ending search…completion is needed…

    and what…no-one’s there…left long ago like allies after a war…the battles fought and the question asked…who were you…

    no-one…i was no-one…

←Previous Page
1 … 160 161 162 163 164 … 195
Next Page→

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • dmseay
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • dmseay
    • Edit Site
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar