Ten minutes of waiting

When you're awake and not drunk, not sleepy, not preoccupied with worries, thoughts roar past like Niagara. You pick one, wet, from a thousand, say it out loud or type it, while all the other thoughts aren't in your head even long enough to be forgotten. 

Well, once upon a Thursday, on my way to a cheeseburger for breakfast, ten minutes of waiting was waiting for me at the bus station. Pacing between pigeons and bums, I thought about all the thoughts getting away from me, and tried to snag 'em all.

Pulled a pen from my pocket and wrote in my notebook fast as my fingers could twitch, but there's a lot of water in Niagara. I took shorthand for one thought, then another and another, but twenty times as many floated past and got away.

Here's some fraction of a fraction of it, dried out a few days later, minus 19 scribbles I couldn't make sense of:


This is a stupid idea and won't work

Look at that dipshit teenager
    with his pants at his knees
        barely able to walk

Old lady sprinkles old bread for the pigeons

Pigeon — ha —
    was my nickname for a girl 40 years ago
        Does she ever think of me?

How can that bum look so lost
    when he's so young?
        It took me a lifetime to get that lost

Am I as fat as that man walking toward me?
    Hope not, cuz jeez he's fat

A girl who might be 15,
    wearing a hooker uniform
        denim shorts, neon top, ridiculous boots
            Or maybe that's only a style

Gotta pee
    Why are there no public toilets?

Christ, there's a nun — a walking wasted life

Are the security guards looking at me? At anything?
    What do they do all day,
        just watching people

Like me. I'm watching people,
    but nobody pays me to watch.

My mistake — that fat man isn't really so huge
    He's wearing his backpack in front

Jeez, that woman looks normal. How bizarre

All the garbage here.
    Do they ever clean the transit center?

Psycho bum bangs on a sign,
    the sign with the rider rules
        Pretty sure banging on the sign
            is against the rules,
                but the security guards don't care

The morning sun catches that
    lady's cigarette smoke
        and it looks poetic

Still gotta pee,
    but in fifteen minutes I'll be at the diner

Some old man is squinting at the posted schedules
    Probably he's new to transit
        confused about which line goes where
                I'd offer to help, if I was a decent guy

Maybe I'll be a decent guy tomorrow

I miss you, Stephanie
    My wife, dead at 48

Fuck everything

Bum walks by, talking to himself
    but I can't make out a word

That lady couldn't be more Greek
    if she was on a sign for a gyro shop

Never seen that man before,
    but one glance and I hate him

Flock of pigeons fly right at me

Two youngish while men are watching
    an old bum dig through a trash barrel
        And laughing at him

They're far enough away,
    maybe the bum doesn't hear the laughs

Soon comes autumn, and I don't care

There are a dozen bums here
    And two preachers who, thank God, don't preach
        They just stand there,
            holding out Jesus pamphlets nobody takes

All these people —
    a hundred of us, waiting for different buses
        Most of us miserable

Nobody's really happy, are they?

Western civilization in ruins

Damn, there goes my knee again
    Once if a while it almost slips out of the socket
        It'll topple me one day

How did I get so old?

Budweiser billboard, fuck you
    for making me think about your brand

If I was 25 years younger, 100 pounds lighter,
    would some woman somewhere have sex with me?
        Probably not

Is my crewcut as perplexing to that man
    as his ponytail is to me?

All the idiots in all the cars
    rolling past on the busy street
        They have places to be, people to fuck over,
            hurry hurry

I have no place to be but breakfast

I miss you, Stephanie

God, I am so alone

And barely care about anything any more

But I do wonder about those guys,
    still laughing at the homeless man

Laugh, idiots

But there are worse things in your past…
    and definitely in your future …
        than whatever a bum finds in the garbage

9/26/2023   

  itsdougholland.com
← PREVIOUS           NEXT →

36 comments:

  1. All these years I thought you and I agreed on poetry. That it sucks!

    I'm not saying yours sucks and it doesn't, but I never thought I'd see the day

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Poetry is like farts — everyone else's are awful.

      Delete
    2. T. S. Eliot (click)

      Delete
    3. So is this going to become a poetry zine Doug? It would be about the only poetry Id read but I would.

      Delete
  2. unusual but I liked it

    very doug despite being poetry

    ReplyDelete
  3. When I was driving once
    I saw this painted on a bridge
    "I don't want the world
    I just want your half"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's Ana Ng but I've never known what it means (the song, not that lyric).

      Delete
    2. ANA NG

      Make a hole with a gun perpendicular
      To the name of this town in a desktop globe
      Exit wound in a foreign nation
      Showing the home of the one, this was written for

      My apartment looks upside down from there
      Water spirals the wrong way out the sink
      And her voice is a backwards record
      It's like a whirlpool and it never ends

      Ana Ng and I are getting old
      And we still haven't walked
      In the glow of each other's majestic presence

      Listen Ana, hear my words
      They're the ones you would think
      I would say if there was a me for you

      All alone at the '64 World's Fair
      Eighty dolls yelling, "Small girl after all"
      Who was at the Dupont Pavilion?
      Why was the bench still warm? Who had been there?

      Or the time when the storm tangled up the wire
      To the horn on the pole at the bus depot
      And in back of the edge of hearing
      These are the words that the voice was repeating

      Ana Ng and I are getting old
      And we still haven't walked
      In the glow of each other's majestic presence

      Listen Ana, hear my words
      They're the ones you would think
      I would say if there was a me for you

      When I was driving once
      I saw this painted on a bridge
      "I don't want the world
      I just want your half"

      They don't need me here and I know you're there
      Where the world goes by like the humid air
      And it sticks like a broken record
      Everything sticks like a broken record
      Everything sticks until it goes away
      And the truth is, we don't know anything

      Ana Ng and I are getting old
      And we still haven't walked
      In the glow of each other's majestic presence

      Listen Ana, hear my words
      They're the ones you would think
      I would say if there was a me for you

      Ana Ng and I are getting old
      And we still haven't walked
      In the glow of each other's majestic presence

      Listen Ana, hear my words
      They're the ones you would think
      I would say if there was a me for you

      Songwriters: John Flansburgh / John Linnell
      Ana Ng lyrics © T M B G Music

      Delete
    3. Yeah but

      but

      what the heck does it mean?

      Delete
  4. What does The Road Not Taken mean? or Prufrock or, for that matter, Nighthawks or The Starry Night? Because poems are part way between a story and a painting and lyrics are poems with a bass player. When things are created matters a little, and this song was written in 1986 or so, less than 15 years after America's exit from Vietnam. Ng is a Vietnamese surname and Ana is a frequently Americanized given name.

    The writer is receiving information obliquely, from a still warm bench in an abandoned World's Fair exhibit. It is now for you as an observer of the writer's work to discern the writer's meaning from the brushstrokes of language TMBG left for us all those years ago.

    jtb

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Love you, man, but that's what bugs me about poetry. Someone's asking *me* to do the work of figuring out what *they* mean. But jeez, I have a hard enough time figuring out what *I* mean.

      Does They Might Be Giants not respect my laziness? What's with all this dang ambiguity, instead of plainly making a point, preferably in bold print or italics so's it can be found even quicker?


      (I'm kidding, of course.)

      Delete
  5. Doug, I can write a short piece about Dylan's Oxford Town, but you remember James Meredith or have at least read about him. TMBG write abstract lyrics that don't always yield to easy interpretation. As I noted a while ago, I Hope That I Get Old Before I Die is a pretty clear answer to The Who's My Generation. Most of their lyrics are less straightforward.

    So no, I doubt that the Johns respect our lazynesses. I'm not quite up to going line for line and telling you what each line means to me. I suspect it's complicated and, again, oblique. It's partly the nature of lyrics and partly the nature of TMBG. I like their music and I get some of their lyrics. I'm willing to go on listening without understanding all of them.

    I can't just listen to The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and be satisfied. "As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most" isn't gonna get me through the night. Prufrock will, but I'll never understand every line. I first read it when I was, maybe 14. It meant almost nothing. When I was 66 and was recovering from a heart attack it meant a lot. I marveled that Eliot, as a college student, was able to write that eloquently about aging. I'll never get the whole thing, and I can live with that. If poetry and lyrics were prose we'd understand everything and life would be horribly dull. No new bridges to cross or jump off of.

    Were I a better writer I could say all this much more clearly. I have fun listening to TMBG's lyrics. They've been part of my life since I was 40 (and that's a long, long time). I have a blue canary nightlight in my kitchen and I do my best to make a little birdhouse in my soul. I feel challenged, but rarely insulted by their lyrics. When I feel insulted I'll be ready to switch over to Garth Brooks, heaven help me.

    John

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You thought I wouldn't get the blue canary reference, dincha? Well, bwa ha ha!

      Poetry swing like a pendulum do, but I prefer it with a melody.

      People come and go, talking about Michelangelo, but nobody *does* anything about it.

      I do hope you never grow weary of educating this correspondent.

      Delete
    2. Dougles, I'm a student, not a teacher. Every time I write a longish comment I'm all over the web learning new things about words, ideas and perspectives. If you also get something out of my scrawling that's a bonus. You're sneaky smart and I enjoy that. It never occurred to me that you'd swing and miss on the canary. That was a nugget for you to, I hope, enjoy.

      I grow old but never weary.

      as always,

      John

      Delete
    3. I grow old, and weary almost always. Tonight I'm weary almost like I'd worked.

      You must've caught my semi-sly Prufrock reference? Gave it a full read to get it, and you know what? I got it. It's a damn fine piece.

      Delete
  6. I think that's terrific. I've read Prufrock dozens of times and got my start from a wonderful 8th grade English teacher. He pointed the way, and I pick up something new every time. The teacher is long gone, but I'm still here and still learning.

    John

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And still teaching.

      It's meme genetics — what you're taught makes you who you are, and bit of you rub off on everyone else and help make them what they are, and they spread their bits too, and some of your bits might be in their bits, to the end of time.

      Delete
    2. I never saw Herb Warner give up on anybody. He spent five years in college so he could teach 8th graders at a time when teachers were criminally underpaid. But every day, at least for the 50 minutes I spent with him, he read Eliot and Pound and even Ferlinghetti to 14-year-olds who ALL wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else. Sixty years later I can hear him reading The Waste Land, singing the last four lines, and trying to do the impossible: persuade adolescents that poetry could enhance their lives.

      John

      Delete
    3. > ...he read Eliot and Pound and even Ferlinghetti to 14-year-olds who ALL wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

      Did he get through to many of them, or was it only you?

      With all due respect to 14-year-olds, I expect many would be immune, possibly for life.

      Delete
    4. Poetry is for the wounded in spirit. A gotta believe there were a couple more of us in the class, but I'll never know.

      jtb

      Delete
    5. Being "in a band" is cool at 14, and writing a song for the band is acceptable, but appreciating poetry not meant to be sung would've gotten anyone's ass kicked at my school.

      Little frickin' monsters all of 'em.

      Except me, of course, and you.

      Delete
    6. He must have known he'd be batting under .100 -- he was committed but not deranged. Imagine playing 40 underpaid years and knowing that in your very best season you'll be lucky to reach halfway to the Mendoza Line. He didn't have to teach from a textbook -- he could have used some Beatles lyrics as examples of modern poetry. But he knew we'd find those on our own.

      He read -- recited really -- the Henry V St Crispin's Day speech (we happy few, we band of brothers) and I felt the genius. I went home and looked it up in a book (my Mom was a bit of a Shakespeare fan, so The Bard was in her modest library). Yup, Herb was right: I'd follow that Henry guy anywhere.

      Sorry, just thinking out loud. I'd almost forgotten how Herb shanghaied be into poetry and a little lit.

      John

      Delete
    7. I had one great teacher like that, but only one, and he wasn't a poetry guy or who knows t he like I might've had. Could've been a shitty poet instead of a shitty whateverIam. :)

      Delete
    8. You do whateveryouare well. I left a well-funded, formerly well-written site, tried a couple of others that were fancier than yours, dropped by here and stayed for the writing. And I'm a little picky about writing. Since I've been here, you've missed one subjunctive that I've noticed and I'm an asshole about grammar and syntax. I guess you learned to write well by writing. And you have a lovely sense of the absurd, which is essential in Trump's America. You earn every comment you get by writing well and honestly. That's why I'm typing this shit here despite the Googs.

      John

      Delete
    9. What? I missed a subjunctive? You just ruined my whole damned week.

      Damn.

      The above is exaggerated for comedic effect, but that's the way my head works. Is yours the same? All the nice words bounce right off like there's a force field surrounding me, but the subjunctive stabs me in the heart.

      Thanks, though, seriously.

      Delete
  7. They used to call that culture. Not the museum kind of culture, but the norms and rules of interchange we generate trying to share air and space and sometimes ideas. I'm real tired of generations of people getting named (boomers, millenials, etc -- I don't know what the fuck they're talking about), but if everybody who was born had to reinvent literature and music and basic rules of human interchange, that's all they'd have time to do. For example, I want to have time to learn how to play tennis. I don't want to play tennis, but the time would be nice.

    John

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, I like that... I'd like the time to study for a PhD in physics... because for me that would be decades.

      I don't even know the names given to the various generations, it's all fictitious, but I do understand what "Gen X" is because I've worked with *THREE* people of that age who talked about it, often, as if it meant something.

      Delete
  8. Amazing poem in a crippling kind of way. Amazing comments, likewise. Thank you, everyone, I am but a flattened worm under your shoe.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I try so hard to avoid stepping on sidewalk worms after it rains. Frequently I bend over, pick 'em up, and toss 'em back onto the grass.

      I'll give up if they're too slippery and I can't get a grip after a few tries, though. Ain't *fanatical* about it.

      Delete
  9. Oh, and with all this talk about society and entire nation states being beyond help. Whatever you believe about that stuff, don't use those beliefs as an excuse for not voting. Vote as if your life depended on it, because . . .

    jtb

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mathematically, of course, one vote makes so little difference it rounds off to zero. Except very rarely ,in some small-town election for precinct committeeperson, where somebody wins 22-21.

      But I don't say out loud any more, that one vote is futile, because a lot of votes really do make a difference, and if too many people see the mathematics and stop voting, it adds up to lots of votes and lost elections.

      Like most of the things that don't stink about me, it's my wife who convinced me of the above, so of course I vote.

      Always will, and everybody should.

      Delete
    2. And remember, every time you fill out a ballot and vote for a progressive Democrat or Independent, an angel of the lord descends from heaven and f*cks Donald Trump in the ass.

      Delete
    3. The censors at Google/Blogger seem to be OK with f*cks and OK with *ss without asterisks, but they won't allow BOTH f*cks and *ass in the same comment, without asterisks .

      Thank you, Google, for keeping our corner of the world safe from f*cks and *sses.

      Delete
    4. Thanks for repairing my sacred comment. I guess I have my own ass t'risk. I appreciate your effort.

      John

      Delete
    5. Sometimes I can see the comments Goodle/Blogger disallows. Sometimes I can't. When I can, I certainly try to make it right.

      Wish I could make it *WORK*.

      Delete

🚨🚨 If you have problems posting a comment, please click here for help. 🚨🚨