Poems by Michael Internicola
you flushed my friendship like i was the biggest shit you ever
and now i can't stop writing bad love poems about you.
you keep me
up all night like the after hours on 18th and 5th.
you have rules like porn
shops do the one man per booth thing.
you crowd my mind like the coke heads
crowd me at the club.
i hate your pilgrim shoes and those sleeveless turtle
neck sweaters you like to wear.
i hate the hand me downs your mother gave
me without your step father knowing.
i hate that these are a bunch of other
words you'll never read or want to even.
i hate that i find no fulfillment
in having great sex with strangers, even better sex than we ever had.
hate your stretch marks and your orange hair and your stubby feet when you were
those playboy tank tops you wore inside out.
the car alarm is
going off again outside.
i would rather die than have you ignore everything
i want to scream and jump over valentine's day or any other made
up holidays that were invented for nice girls like you.
Rules Of Travel
never think your bigger than the situation.
you don't have
to respect yourself but you must respect everyone and everything around you.
take chances everyday.
if someone is traveling alone invite them in.
it's lonely enough on the road.
don't follow the map and never make
yourself into a tourist.
if you have the money spread it
around and remember don't judge.
somebody may be down and out for all the
Cheese Omelet, Home Fries, Bacon on The Side and Rye
"i'm gonna get some breakfast."
-i said, 6 a.m., not
sleeping on my side of the bed.
i did that after the second time she talked
in her sleep,
"i'm gonna kill you."-she mumbled.
i laughed, then she
turned over and fell back into a dream.
i watched the light come up a lot
of mornings but that morning was different.
i was too lazy to put my
she'd be getting up at seven, keep me up till' nine.
turned over and our asses were touching.
i slept like that for the last two
years, ass to ass,
and i bet good money your sorry to say you been there