For William

 

 

You had beautiful eyes

and you were nice

 

young

 

gay

 

I hardly knew you

but I loved you anyway

 

and thought about

what it might be like

to kiss you again

 

When I heard

you had died

 

I felt nothing

 

but then

I missed you

 

though I didn’t cry

 

because

 

I had the chance

once

 

to hear your voice

 

and to know your name

William

 

they told me

your parents were poor

 

that there was no funeral

 

that you were cremated

into dust

 

but I remember

you always smiling

 

even the last day I saw you

in the library

 

picking out a movie

to watch

alone

 

---

the hell that is my life

Thursday, 09-Jul-98 03:58:21

 

 

i am dumb

 

yeah, it's a fact

 

f u c k

 

drunk too

and drunk's a very good part

of dumb

 

man O man

 

why?

 

why jim?

why?

 

why c.e. nelson?

why?

 

you damn writers

get to put it down so nicely

 

and i envy you

 

while i

go to my job

 

(what? tom miller's got a job?)

 

and do my bartending thing

where i talk to people

i don't want to talk to

 

tell them they're great

and how great everything is

and great great great

 

until they give me their tip

 

they leave loving me

and i hate them

 

and that's the f u c k i n g

s h i t

of it

 

isn't it

 

the real world

 

i pretend

and they believe me

and they don't care

and neither do i

 

but i make a dollar

and they get drunk

and take someone else

home who's drunk

and doesn't care

and i drink on their

dollar

alone

 

and the drunk guy or girl

f u c k s them

and leaves that night

or the next morning

 

without so much

as a tip

or a word

 

not even a word

sometimes they sneak out

 

throw up in the bushes

on the way back to the club

for another round of golf

 

aw, shit.

guys,

i'm a dead thing.

 

it's not this town,

it's me.

 

so valvis says

tom, you're bigger than this.

oh, really?

 

i'm stuck here,

my friends.

 

forever.

 

and i'm stuck

with the lunitics i

date

 

and i'm stuck here

as a wanna' be poet

and what am i really?

 

a guy

in a small town

with lots of dreams

and nothing to show for it

 

tonight

it's e&j brandy

 

it's so bad

i don't even know

if it's real brandy

or just cooking

alcohol

 

but it doesn't matter

 

hey...

jim,

 

me and the bitch

broke up tonight

 

like we have so many times before

but tonight

it's for real

 

that's my special secret

because tomorrow

 

he'll call back

and say i'm sorry

like he always does

 

but i'll tell him

sorry too and

 

we're over like

nuclear war

 

and then

i might write

something like this

 

and maybe one of my

little-animal-dies-on-the-road

poems

 

and people will

laugh when i read it

like they always do

 

and i'll pity them

and pity me

 

and pity you poor writers

who try so hard

and are actually good at it

at words

 

and pity you

for your tiny

audience

 

and your tiny world

and your tiny universe

 

in which

you all will croak

 

with illness

and sorrow

and heartache

 

until black is black

 

c.e.

jim valvis

rita dove

bukowski

lifshin

ross perot

lincoln

e&j brandy

java in a nutshell

pre calculus

"the elements of style" by

strunk and white

 

i never held a candle to you

 

please god

kill me softly

 

gently

 

and in the meantime

 

there once was a little

squirrel

who wandered into the road

for a nut

 

and the traffic was so

heavy

but the squirrel was

determined

 

so he looked both ways

gingerly took one step

then another

 

heading for the line

and when he got to the nut

he put it in his mouth

 

and the taste was so

good

 

that the squirrel

didn't notice

the truck

 

heading

right

for

him

 

and then

he died

 

-----

 

well,

that's what happened

in my little world

 

and

 

um

 

well

 

i guess

this is

another

 

thing that

you the reader

read

 

for better or worse

 

i am dumb

i am dumb

i am dumb

i am bumd

 

(post it now, before you read it, you idiot!)

 

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