Mike
Poet
10/07/2008
19:45:39
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 Subject: Reflex blue
IP: Logged
Message:
I'm standing in my corner all day
all fucking day, pushing these
remittance envelopes thru the
machine, 100 at a time because
they don't stack well and, the
envelope feeder - forget it.
So, handful at a time, radio
tuned, then not, and in that
semi-psychedelic state routine
puts you in mud shadows just
beyond field of vision, bad air
half the workforce sick, sneezing
hacking walking zombielike I
see it, erase it, see it the muse
factor of routine ridiculous, every
damn thing washing through brain
while body static I yell at George
"Guess you forgot the donuts, with
your cold and all," and he yells back
over his machine noise what he
always yells nobody brings donuts
ever, they just say they will. Lies
stacked on lies stacked on
laughter, if one can manage but
really, George looks bad he shouldn't
be here I keep seeing my father's hairy
arm draped on front seat of Fairlane
as mother drives upstate I tell him
Pat had cancer and beat it he doesn't
listen, points to hill just above Muncy
where the civilian conservation corps
planted trees, 1932, says I was there
sent pay back to mother, slept in tents
Hitler over there but not ripe yet I keep
seeing that drive finish one side of
envelopes, start the other 10,000
impressions a hundred at a time by
time shift done then up Derry St
Joe at Derry beverage saying dow
fell 300 some points today, that maybe
some people jumped out of windows
Joe laughs. I laugh too but not much. I
get home, find a big ink streak down
arm, look in mirror, some on face
too you think this is funny.
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