My Organic Romance

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I met this girl at the grocery store

while shopping for Christmas

Wrapped in cheap toilet paper

and abundance of cat food

I was sulking at the pompousness

of organic honey on the organic shelf

she asked, have you ever been happy

The question threw me off

Like a clown thrown in a court room

I grabbed the slipping toilet paper

and hid it behind packets of cigarettes

the fragility of impressions now secured,

I thought about the year’s highlights

A storm rose in the climate of my eyes

I’ve been angry, I said

The only thing that was never inspired

neither borrowed nor stolen

From books or lovers or abusive mothers

Happiness is dull, like my father’s shampoo

Safe, unassuming, clinical in it’s purpose

I could feel her burning stare

The kind of look that makes you feel

Like drowning in the whirlpool of a woman’s body

or atleast trying organic honey

But luckily I’d been a floater for a while

butterflying on lakes and municipality pools

Give it a chance, she whispered after a while

Write about singing in the snow

Sing about writing love songs

Love like it’s going to last forever

And last forever,

Like the Milky Way,

Like the Lochness Monster,

Like the Indian Ocean

Like organic honey!

With that performance, she left

pausing only at the vegan shelf

And like always,

All I wanted,

Was to last just a little more

Than I lasted.

************************ photograph by Brassai********************

Don’t stray near my coffee shop.

{ I’ve often wondered after an arduous day, while travelling in the metro\subway, what it is that turns your regular Joe into a serial killer. The answers are all right there- That cranky, pompous man who refuses to apologize for stepping on your injured foot. Or that sad woman with her annoying kids who keep belting out nursery rhymes at the top of their voices. Or perhaps, the whole working class crowd as one single, living, breathing organism whose primary motive in life is to refuse you your seating space after a long, tiring day. This is written perhaps, in that frame of mind in a different setting and is one of three pieces in ” the killer is me ” trilogy.  The painting is a very famous work titled ” The Scream ” by Edvard Munch. Enjoy! }

All of you liberals,
Thinkers and Aristocrats,
Dressed up in black and                                                                                     
chardonnay in your hands

I wish to set your hair on fire,
and light up this cold night.

Sons of Tycoons,
And daughters of free women.
There’s hashish in your curls.
And E under your tongues.

I wish to examine your veins.
And see the color of your liberty.

And all of you cavemen,
virile beasts of the night.
with steroid pumped eyes,
And a pick up from the last red light.

I wish to open your heads
And watch your corpses copulate.

My dear blood, friends and society
I am smoking a cigarette.
Don’t stray near my coffee shop, today.
Borrow my lighter,
And You might ignite a holocaust.