The following is an excerpt from Andrew Weatherhead’s new book-length poem, $50,000. It is available now from Publishing Genius.
The intercom’s paging someone named Ned Spaghetti
Streetlights flicker on Church Avenue
Distance sweeps through the city like a plague
The wind stops, but the clouds keep moving
My face hurts from frowning again
I’m having obvious feelings…
Mike Tyson: “All of my heroes were truly miserable bastards, and I emulated them my whole career”
It feels like I’m floating, but I know I’m not
Dreams of total narcissism and self-involvement
Google searches for emotions, feelings, bars near me
Rivers that never reach the sea
Constant fear is the natural state of man—a path from the real to the abstract
Gavrilo Princip finishes his sandwich, steps outside, and assassinates the Archduke Franz Ferdinand
World War I begins
World War I ends
Trees rustle overhead
Time is a jelly—it wooshes
I walk quickly past Café Mogador
Friends of friends haunt me
Lunch meat drives me insane
Cus D’Amato: “The hero and the coward feel the same thing”
Vi Khi Nao: “My soul is a cul-de-sac”
Everyone else’s problems seem worse
So I go home and go to sleep
