Tuesday, November 29, 2016

"Not a Happy Day"

Not a Happy Day

It was by no means a happy day. Not a single happy thing had happened There had been some things that he had hoped would happen that would have been happy, and those things had not happened. And some sad things, that he had hoped would not happen, had happened.

And yet he found himself smiling. He found that he was happy. He found that the pilot light inside of himself was on, was glowing brightly and flickering happily, and seemed to be packed with the promise of a possible conflagration of joy, given the proper catalyst. That is to say, he had hope.

He smiled at the clouds over the Hudson on his way to work. As he rode along the bike path, he sang the saddest songs he could think of and they made him so happy.

Over the course of the day, he found himself continually looking at his phone, in hopes of a happy call, a happy text, a happy message, a happy anything, but nothing came. He continued to smile and remain hopeful--not in a desperate or pathetic way, or in a false way, but in a real and true way. He didn't know empirically that everything was going to be fine. In fact, he knew empirically that it wouldn't be fine--there would be, over the course of the rest of his life, sickness and death and heartache and despair and all sorts of other sad things. But he knew, somehow that he would be fine. And he knew that there would be happy things in his future as well.

The day went on, with nothing particularly good or happy happening. He left the office and went on about the things he needed to do, and they all got done, which gave him some small comfort. He went home, happy that nothing truly bad had happened, and sad that nothing all that happy had.

He had looked forward to this day, and as it died, he found himself lying in bed, sad and happy, and looking forward to tomorrow.

November 29, 2016

Thursday, November 3, 2016

"Just Beyond the Staten Island Ferry"

Just Beyond the Staten Island Ferry

Just beyond the Staten Island Ferry
I saw a high school student, elated
Over his successful hand-feeding
Of a peanut to a squirrel.

The nigger took the peanut
right out of my hand!

He shouted to his friends,
As the squirrel darted back
Behind the brush.

November 3, 2016

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

"The Suit"

The Suit

The Suit
Hangs on a hanger
That hangs on a peg
On a wall
In my office:

An inspiration
An indictment
A goal
A dream that mocks me.

I tried on the suit yesterday
The one I haven't fit into in over a year
I didn't think it would fit, and it didn't
And I have a longer way to go than I thought.

I've been asked,
Why do you have the suit?
Do you have to wear suits at work?

And I say,
No, I don't have to wear suits
But the jackets cover up my body
I have a lot of body shame
The suit helps mitigate the body shame
When I can fit into it, that is.

I have been accused of having
Distorted body image
But the fact is,
I have a small frame
Extra weight looks worse on me
Than it does on other people.

My body image is realistic, I think:
Right now, I am a fat piece of shit
And once I can wear the suit again
I won't be.

About a month ago
I had some shirts I couldn't button
I can button them now
But I won't really be ok
Until I can wear the suit.

It is possible,
If I continue at my current rate of weight loss,
That at some point
The suit will be too big for me
I would rather that didn't happen
If I could maintain a weight
Such that I could keep wearing the suit comfortably
I believe I would be satisfied
I don't want to be a skeleton
I just want to not feel the way I feel anymore.

They say happiness comes from within
But they only say that to make me feel better
It doesn't make me feel better
Because it is a lie.

I took a picture of the suit today
I will post it on Facebook
And when I can finally fit into the suit again
I will take a picture of me wearing it
And post it on Facebook.

The picture of me wearing the suit
Will probably get a lot of likes
It will probably get more likes
Than this poem will.

November 1, 2016