It's "Wintery Mixing" Outside: A Poem

I came home from work
And I needed a nap.
So I napped.

I woke up from my nap
and needed to eat.
So I ate.

I finished eating
And decided I’d like some wine.
But I didn’t have any.

I finished eating
And in addition to some wine I also needed a bubble bath.
But I didn’t have any bubbles.
And I felt really gross after napping,
which is so typical.

I could have, of course,
Always taken a bath without bubbles…
But not before I retrieved some wine,
Because it was snowing,
And going into the cold with a wet head is
Not Smart.

But I could, of course
Have Gotten some Wine AND Bubbles
And then be set
To enjoy them both
At the same time?!

I went for some bubbles
And bubbly wine
And got mugged on the way.

That Sucked.

Halloween Attracts more Fratboy Douchbags to the East Village

Last night, Halloween 2007, featured downtown New York’s 34th annual Halloween parade, filling the village with drunks, frat boys, and drunk fratboys.

In my old age I’ve failed to get into the Halloween spirit. I haven’t had much of a costume since I was the Mad Hatter my senior year of High School, and even that just involved wearing a hat. The next few Halloweens are all a blur, culminating last year when I threw on a fur coat and called myself a squirrel. When it comes to Halloween, I like to get out of the Village and head to Lazytown: Population, Me.

This year I was lazy enough not to even TRY to have a costume, so I should have been more impressed by all the girls who put so much effort into wearing so little. But I wasn’t. So my investment banker friends and I traipsed through the village trying to find the best place to go, pointing at people, staring, and doing all those things you’re told not to do when you’re young.

If there’s anything New Yorkers don’t need an excuse to do, it’s drink. For some reason, Halloween has become this kind of surrogate St. Patrick’s day, and St. Patrick’s day is just a more extravagant East Village Saturday, only everyone wears green. Halloween, however, demands everyone be in costume. It’s also a little like the only other holiday that I know involves costumes, Purim.

I was surprised to see that even at 1:00am on a WEDNESDAY night there were still tons of people out drinking. I can’t believe all of those people called in sick to work the next day. I was even witness to a crime, involving one man chasing another man through the streets screaming “Police! Stop that guy! He’s got my shit!” The crowds were horrible, the traffic worse, and the foot-traffic easily reminiscent of Times Square. Despite all this, I think I’d end up traveling to village on Halloween if I didn’t already live there, so I should just stop complaining.

Cheerios From a Shot Glass

I need to do the dishes.

One of My Students is a Genius

Pinocchio is a lonely piece of wood.

He has been on many adventures. Here's one of them.

Once, Pinocchio was walking down the street and some guy tried to kidnap Pinocchio. Pinocchio said "I like your pants", which was a lie, and his nose grew and went through the guy's stomach. The guy died.

The next day Pinocchio met Girl-Pinocchio and they became friends and eventually they got married and had little Pinnochiettes. They were happy.

One day when they were coming back from the mall some guy jumped them. Then they were poor so Pinocchio had to work extra time as a towel rack to keep up with the rent.

Eventually they were both turned into lamp poles and chairs.

The End

Today I Bought a Poem for Five Bucks

I walked past a young man on the street
with a hat
and I thought
"I'm wearing a hat too!"
Though this man on the street
Also
with a desk and a typewriter and a sign that said
POEMS
was bruised in his face, and mustached, and cold.

I didn't get a poem at first, because I needed to go find some hot dogs.
But then I got stuck at a traffic light and didn't want to wait to cross the street,
So back to the man with a hat and typewriter
I asked him to write me a poem.

It's About Hot Dogs:

flesh stick searching.
could they be in the
park, by the small wiener dogs?
could they be in the motor
shop with all the hot rods.
perhaps by the noodle stand
standing so tall.
in the buns or alone
some say they are clones.
really they could be
food for a king.
mighty and tasty to grill

or just cold.
The mighty wiener
shape of the future
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\the hot dog town.
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\good luck.


By Street Poet William Chrome (wC)