Disposable Poetry

The rain comes down
on MacDougal Street

as tea goes cold
in the cup

and the Chinese girls
speak Mandarin

while the rain
comes down
on MacDougal Street

Italian opera plays
as the waitress
bumps through
the crowded tables
and chairs

Outside
people run
under coats
like silent Banshees
on parade

while the rain
comes down
on MacDougal Street

The awning
catches a gust
of wind like laundry
drying in the sun

Drunk girls
puff unsuccessfully
on damp cigarettes

With the check comes
the smiling-for-the-tip smile
and time to call it a night

while the rain
comes down
on MacDougal Street

(D. James)

For inspiration
use your life
or steal
someone else’s

use words
to evoke images

If all else fails
light yourself
on fire
and tell me
how that feels

“Trust me”
the man said
“it works”

(D. James)

Is there time?
with all the waste
the things we do
perpetually
perpetrating
the idea of busyness

Is there time
to live, to think,
to be?

Or are we simply
taking up space
in between commercials
waiting to purchase cheap thrills
in a Chinese box?

Lost and out of time
not even sure what
words mean any longer

People speak at me
in languages I don’t
comprehend

With gestures and
too much emotion

Yet none of it
feels real

(D. James)

Always the big plan
the big win
big project
dreaming of
the big money

Long trips in difficult ways
and torrid love affairs

Always the prettiest girls
coolest motorcycles
fastest cars
Never the small plan
the plain girl
the day-to-day
of working a job

What about
the simple things?
quart of milk
feed the cat
“what’s on TV”?

Don’t want
to do the homework
learn the basics
and never, ever
take the bus

(D. James)

Too long without sleep
too far to travel

Standing
so as not to fall

And when rest
finally comes
it is without
solace

But at least I’m in
my own bed

(D. James)

bring me a little
peace

bring me some
solace

bring me to my
knees

keep me from
harm

keep me alive
until I no longer
make sense

then have the decency
to pull the plug
squeeze the trigger
slip the needle in

whatever it takes
to keep the end
quick and painless

do this because
you love me

do it because
you hate me

just do it
when the hour
is right
so that tomorrow
never comes

(D. James)

There are things I know
that I shouldn’t
and things I know that I’m
not supposed to tell

So I just sit here
with my mouth shut

Because I’m not sure what
I’m supposed to know or not
and what I can or can’t say

Other than nothing,
which suits me fine

(D. James)

Why is it the worst
pop songs get
stuck in my ear

Like bad thoughts
on a rainy day

Can’t seem to make
them go away

(D. James)

We drink dust
and eat smoke
while the fire
burns within

The winter light
fades quickly
leaving a fat
lush red line
on the horizon

The animals
have all fled
their cages
tonight

And that old latin drummer
bangs on the skins

Let the party begin

(D. James)

Just give me two minutes
I promise to be brief
as I try to make some sense
of what I’m feeling

Through the chemically induced
alcohol driven, nicotine fit I’m on
there’s a tiny point of light
that I think might help if I
could just focus on it long
enough to hear the message

Just two fucking minutes
was all I asked
to get my head together
and realize what I wanted
most to say

But she walked away
so I lay on the floor
and lied to myself
that she’d come back
and listen to it all

(D. James)