How you got to love somebody


Day 20

Hello reader, just a side note here, I’ll be putting these poems on my podcast in May and discussing my journey. The podcast is KDOI Podcasting click on the link, there are 3 seasons worth of art, discussion, interviews projects and more.

Try to write a poem grounded in language as it is spoken – not necessarily the grand, dramatic speech of a monologue or play, but the messy, fractured, slangy way people speak in real life. You might incorporate overheard speech or a turn of phrase you heard once that stood out to you – the idea here is to get away from formally “poetic” speech and into the way language tends to work out loud.

How You Got To Love Somebody

20 April 2019

Nights spent on their couch

Purposely not getting the hint, pretending to be more baked than I was

Their choice of music is oppressive, well his choice, she and I prefer something smoother

I am pushed deeper into the cushions, as if I am slowly drifting into a chasm

I’d like to escape the loneliness I feel, being with them doesn’t help

once I go out that door all that awaits me is

my furnished apartment with the Murphy bed and the cat that the ex left

On the other side of the wall is the crack dad of the year, selling his daughters ass to be the carpet cowboy he always wanted to be, someone is going to jail tonight

I am not sure I can out wait my friends tonight, it is their pad

my paranoia shifts to overdrive, can they hear whats going on in my head

She says How You Got To Love Someone To Put It Up There

damn, she knows something or she has hit level 4 gibberish

They both are totaled, smoking hydro like it is Mexican dirt weed

I won’t touch their stuff, I prefer regular octane vs their mind melting bud

If I want to get stupid I just hook up with some black tar or generational j’s, hash if I can find it

My peeps are good to me, they tolerate my ramblings, they let me spit out my stories of past adventures and losses.

I am their pet money when it is a quiet weekend or they are low on funds

I always come through with cheap dank that is guaranteed

but not enough to put you in the stratosphere

She is postponing the inevitable

pounding that he thinks he gives

His whiskey dick is writing checks his body has no intention of cashing

Friendships be damned, he is ready for his roll in the hay

giving me the bro nod and telling me bros before hoes but he has a nut he needs to get off

Its time for me to bolt

Checking my pack, I am good till I can get to the stop and rob

The red death machine is ready to roll

and it won’t be a hot check Friday night

customers are trying to blow up my phone

fast easy cash and unloaded this brick will bring me relief in cash flow and being a target

Getting home way past Oh dark thirty

the po po just left my building, I can smell the bacon

they took carpet cowboy, so I might get some sleep tonight

his money maker who is only ten has already slipped into the night waiting for me to get back so she won’t have to camp tonight

I start the coffee, pull out some bread and cheese

she taps 3 2 3, her code is not needed for me

Cartoons are already on as the cheese melts

she rests tonight

I watch her until I’m passed out

from being in the realms of my unconscious

She doesn’t curl up next to me

slowly she eats her grilled cheese, puts out my cigarette

Its Saturday afternoon when I come to

she lets herself out, we are good for about a week

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