Poems of Complaint

Falling in love with TAs since 2013

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 16

suddenly we are all aware

of the obvious:

life is an underlying condition

and the only cure 

is death

- e 

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 09

glimpses 

of a busy cafe 

of a crowded street 

of a show in the city 

of a club where kenny picks another fight 

things i never thought i’d have to miss 

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 08

how many emails 

and virtual panels 

with the same information 

will make this 

okay? 

susceptible, infected, recovered, repeat 

the prisoner 

understanding her prison

is not free 

get me out of here 

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 07

in between contentment and misery 

there is a life that is livable 

where words can

convey little hurts and small joys 

- egg

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 06

i forgot to write a poem yesterday 

because i was watching the television

trying to ignore the numbers 

for a moment or two

[poemsofcomplaint]

Pandemic

The streets are empty in the Great United States Guns out, Masks shout Young and Unemployed and Unafraid Refrigerated corpses in freezer trucks lined with lysol wipes The new rose on a coffin Don’t forget to buy coffee Don’t forget to call your mother Ahh, a deep breath, said mother Earth

-f

[poemsofcomplaint]

beautiful bullshit

back then you could say

a million beautiful things 

i’m thinking about you

i care about you

nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby

you can half-believe beautiful bullshit 

because maybe its enough

but when the end comes

it will be clear like a knife

like the night

like glass

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 04

it wouldn’t matter 

how i was doing 

you wouldn’t come

just to see me 

from several feet away 

because at the end of the day 

i was nothing 

to you 

not that i think i’m nothing 

my worth is not dependent 

on anyone 

no matter how badly i want 

to be something 

to you

to get sick to see you 

would be obscene 

can love and loneliness 

make someone do 

terrible things 

to perfect strangers?

perhaps 

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 03

broken down

like a car rusting in the rain

and the engine won’t start

and i can’t bare 

another unwelcome morning 

with no oil and no gas 

because there is no oil and no gas 

and no where to go anyway

[poemsofcomplaint]

isolation 01

he was here, in my bed. i told him to leave, i had stuff in the morning. he stayed for another hour or two. if i had known it was the last time. the last time he’d be over to fuck me and hold me and talk shit and grab me while i tried to grab a t-shirt to show him the door. if i had known he would have stayed till the morning. we would have stayed in bed all day drinking coffee. my sheets held his smell for a day and i washed them. but time still passes. him with his love. and me, alone. he likes me. but not enough to be here now.  he’ll lose interest by the time this is over, he says he won’t. he will forget what i look like, he will forget what i smell like, he will forget what i feel like. he will realize i want too much. i care too much. i feel too much. 

[yab-yum]

[poemsofcomplaint]

chunk of my heart

i left a piece of me with you 

a chunk of my heart i’m never getting back 

you can do what you want with it now 

leave it out on the curb or forgotten in a drawer 

has it rotted away or fossilized to stone?

i guess i’ll never know

u promised me you’d always love me from afar 

always is an awful long time 

i’m not yours

[poemsofcomplaint]

ballad to solitude

i walked to the bar in the morning

a battered book in my bag and a ballad playing in my head 

drifting in the haze of yesterday’s whiskey 

i greeted melancholy like an old friend

each sip of coffee a silent prayer 

to the goddess of solitude

- z 

[poemsofcomplaint]

i hover slightly above the taco truck in the rain. the old ones are at the bar, in their cups. in a friendly conversation with a new old friend, once again. yet you are the old young girl in the brown jacket eating from a white paper plate. the weight of your self and the pull of a future tear you. the rain does not bother you. slowly held, and one day crushed by it all. 

[poemsofcomplaint]

i met a stranger on a hilltop 

in the darkness of a muggy spring night

singing to the graves 

who are you? 

can i listen for awhile?

and he sang of loves past

and we spoke of nothing in particular

he left because his voice was horse 

[poemsofcomplaint]

dreaming of fame 

fortune and twitter verification

quantifying our lives with likes 

follows and shout outs by our idols 

it all went wrong in 2007 

our idols now sell cereals 

and have their own flats in London 

this “fandom” is just an unrequited obsession 

 - z 

[poemsofcomplaint]

Writers

To be a pen in a cup of feather quills All spilling ink on pages unread by the flocks Read by the occasional bird watcher who stumbles upon Heartstrings pulled and pushed, tangled and wound  Words within words within wasted willingness to wonder If it’s even worth it to write Another drop, drip, drop Black ink soaking through parchment Typed on a Macbook Pro Professionally marked by makers Write me a novel will you I will not read it  Although I wish I would

-f