Good Luck: Episode Nineteen
Eggshells
walked to the postal box, across
from the liquor store, and the bank.
At the box I saw egg shells
on the concrete, and thought
“I’m no Inspector Clouseau
but it appears that someone
ate a hard boiled egg here
between the hours of 3am
and now, which is precisely 11:18 am”
and a voice, my own, asked
“Inspector, how can you be sure?”
and I answered, “It’s simple,
there are no raindrops within
the cup of those broken egg shells.
The killer must have peeled
and eaten the eggs after
the rain stopped.” “Killer?”
“Well yes, this is certainly
the deranged handiwork of a killer.”
I slipped your letter in the box.
wow today
wow today I went to work
for a lot of days I didn’t go
but wow today I went
they had me put on a chemical suit
and I, I wore Darth Vader’s mask
wow today wow I waited forever
for the slow crane and the slow man
inside operating the orange claw
as it scooped toxic waste from a roiling pit
of chocolate milk—chocolate milk
in air quotes, wow
wow today I heard an economist on the radio
tell a nervous mother she should send
her kid to Yale even though her kid
would go into terrible debt because wow today
studies show that a college graduate makes
one million dollars more over the course of a lifetime
than a person who works with me
and also if you go to college you don’t have
to act like Little Bo Peep nudging toxic waste
Little Bo Peep toxic waste? the mother asked
the economist, What does that mean?
The economist, like all other people
had no answer so, wow today, I’ll explain:
I have my metal pole, crooked and bent
standing in my white chemical suit
and Darth Vader mask
nudging the orange claw
flown over by the slow crane
orientating it just right, so it opens
splashing into a blue dumpster
not anywhere else in the world
wow today my name is Bud, I am from the Internet
inside my wedding ring there is an inscription
which reads: love you till my heart stops
at lunch time, I peel off the chemical suit
scrub my hands, scrub again, again
while I am working, I keep my ring on my keychain
so my finger doesn’t get ripped off
wow today
I ate a chicken salad sandwich
and drank four Monsters (doctor’s orders)
my doctor says I’m allergic to coffee
my doctor says I should not drink coffee
so now I have replaced two coffees a day
with four Monster energy drinks, for my health
wow today, wow today, for my health, wow today
wow today I found a new hero
I found him waiting to punch out
I found him on the Internet
his name is Myron, he’s from North Dakota
he caught his hand in a sausage grinder
the blood gushing gushing gushing gushing
instead of dying he reached over
on the bench, got his butcher knife
hacked through his own muscle
and veins, to escape
wow today Myron said, “It would be very easy
to sit back, feel sorry for myself and get depressed
…I can handle this.”
Tahini
this is tahini
spilled all over
the front
of my pants
relax
Night Shift
9:25 pm — Eating handfuls of lettuce out of a plastic sack, noticing it has Mickey Mouse on it. Stopping. I’d started checking for things like this after one of my coworkers, a year before, saw me eating lettuce and laughed, pointing, and I said “What?” and they said, “Are you fucking eating Star Wars lettuce?” And I looked. And I was. Adam Driver was on the bag, looking conflicted, holding his lightsaber, dressed in all black, maybe because he was evil. It was too soon to tell.
Sugar Poem
In the Uber Rae says,
“What’s a sugar plum?”
But I think she says
sugar poem
so I say, “Sugar poem?”
Joey is in the front
and says “Poem for sugar,
sugar is sweet.”
I say, “End poem.”
The driver is sober
and annoyed,
because when Joey
got in, the driver had
to move his lunch box
and his map
and why would an Uber driver
need a map?
“Seriously what’s
a sugar plum?”
The driver says, “A sugar plum
is not actually a plum it’s just hard
candy in the shape of a plum.”
He runs a red light and we thunder
beneath the overpass
cut through the projects
where the people are sleeping
it’s late, we all have some kind
of work until we die
Joey says, “Poem for sugar sugar is sweet.”
Joey says, “Poem for sugar sugar is sweet.”
Joey says, “Poem for sugar sugar is sweet.”
and the driver stomps on the brakes.
Okay now get out my car!
So we get out of his car
we walk up the hill
end poem
all the way home
end poem, end poem
in the rain.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Richard Brautigan. (Another way of saying “Yes.”)
yeah love this bud smith stuff, lots of Brautigan in there
Great shite Man!
[…] There’s new poetry by Bud Smith at The Nervous Breakdown. […]