60
the transient subversion of mitochondrial incontinence leads to false manhandling of litigious legumes
59
the brass clock clicks as the nervous ticks begin to rapid fire, his face grows wan this trembling man as he begins to perspire
58
breathe, just breathe, let the salt laden air infuse you with cleanliness
57
the sky is yellow. the car is covered in accumulated bird shit. everything falls apart. he grins. shakes his head. it most certainly is whatever day today is. a rueful chuckle. a bird lands on the roof and cocks it’s hollow boned neck. we all die it intones in sing song fashion before exploding into a shower of dust. he chuckles to himself.
56
tick tock, time for another strategic punch in the solar plexus
55 – 53
coffee trickles through the grounds, the now caffeinated liquid rests mournfully in the pot, steaming gently, calling out in the morning malaise
52
the third alarm, strategically set does little to shake the cobwebs, from one pile of muscle and bone in bed, to a new reiteration on the couch
53
he forgot to pour coffee
52
the world is on fire. it is always on fire. his head hurts.
51
dragging himself to the kitchen, he pours the mug of coffee, burns his lips and tongue, wonders at the futility of it all. two ice cubes. one in the cup. one on his tongue.
50
he rereads the same thing he just read in hopes of a new outcome, is this insanity, clicking the same icon he just closed hoping for a different result
he will do and ask himself the same roughly four hundred times today
if he is mad, he is in the majority
49
the coffee hits his system, but the days of boundless energy have long past, now all the acidic brown does is shift the fog and wake his bowels
that is enough
48 – 45
he sits
now
on the cold wooden horseshoe
leaning forward
on his fifth run
of the same
god damned thing
44
he writes
43
he deletes
42
he tries again
41 – 38
self doubt and self loathing and coffee and frustration and the knowledge there must be more to it all
37 – 33
he writes, sub par by his estimation though he refuses to go back and read it, but the general gist is sub par
it is always sub par
he wonders why he continues
32
existential crisis on the couch
maybe something new has happened
a notification
just a birthday
existential crisis resumes
31
the fourth alarm tolls, if he is to eat it is now or forever hold his feast
30
he has no food. refuses to eat ramen for breakfast. eyes the ramen anyway. shakes his head. he needs groceries. which means money. which means work. his phone sounds the notification sound. food is forgotten.
29
it was a reminder of the birthday
if he trusted himself to remember birthdays he would disable the notification
he is not
so he does not
28
he is hungry
27
third cup of coffee, he turns the pot off as soon as it is done brewing, if he had patience, he would wait for it to cool, now that it has he guzzles it, soon his stomach is full
it will have to do
26
an idea blossoms
26
it was trash
25
he writes it anyway
ahem
write a poem about the morning routine from first alarm to leaving for work
make it clever
a countdown
don’t name it ticking
24 – 21
standing and staring aimlessly in the closet, a selection of brightly colored shirts
he will select the drab one
he loves that one
he has no one he will see to impress with his color palate
he has no one
20
crumpled back in the bed, laying with the clothes he so carefully made a show of choosing
he has nothing
no one
19
he checks the phone again as he drinks more coffee, aware he will piss ten times the first hour at work, happy he will have something to do that isn’t work
18
now the ideas come to him
17 – 15
he scribbles off another poem, maybe it is the coffee but this one feels better
it isn’t
14
finally he dresses
13
fuck. deodorant.
12
he stares at himself in the mirror, when did he get so ugly, so haggard, so very sad
this is why he has nothing
has no one
if he were attractive
someone could look past his flaws
instead
he rubs in the beard oil, brushes it thoroughly, trims any egregious hairs that refuse to conform
11
more coffee
more checking the feed
he is hungry
10 – 9
aware of how he looks he brushes his teeth in the dark
8 – 5
he picks up and sets down his phone, this goes on, over and again
4
he ties his shoes, dread mounting, the door an insurmountable obstacle
3
he plays with the idea of calling in sick
2
he calls in sick
1
he undresses and crawls back into bed
0
he has to piss
This…. well, you know how I feel about lists. You clever, brilliant poet, you. I love this.
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it was fun. ish. I hate lists. still.
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Admit it… lists are growing on you.
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Technically this was a countdown. It is a fucking list. Damn.
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I’m pretty sure I need another list poem by Mike. Just sayin’
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ugh. give me a prompt then dammit. Lol
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Yes!!
I want it like a list of how a caterpillar is in chrysalis and as its turning into a butterfly. But it’s really a person becoming something new because of her of course. But kinda like a science-y list you’d see in one of your kids science books.
And…. go.
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Just saw the title….now it makes perfect sense
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