The Coffee Shop on 8th Ave. & 22nd St.
the stench of cloves burn my nostrils
instigating an ache in my left temple
that will last for hours
I’ll have my coffee black with sugar
folks from all genres enter the out-door
university professors with their barely legal girlfriends
along with pseudo-artists
hanging onto their fortune cookie philosophies
all of these clowns live by the same slogan
fuck the norm! they scream
wearing a Rage Against the Machine tee-shirt with Che’s face
forgetting that being anti-norm is the norm
the women complain that a good man is hard to find
not for once thinking that the fact they choose to not shave
might influence the men they’re too afraid to speak to
dirty girls need a bath
a group of lesbian-loving-man-haters sit at the next table
each of which has a bad cock-tale
so they turn to the lips beneath the hips
hoping to find solace in the womb of another woman
conversations from all corners find my ears
tales of lost loves and new found happiness
stories concerning none of the present parties
and (thanks for the coffee) affairs a world away
I came to this hell to read a poem
wondering why no one has begun
only to realize that I am at fault tonight
the reading is on Wednesday and today is Tuesday
©1998, P. Kukreja. All rights reserved.
Went to a funeral today for my mom’s oldest brother. I didn’t know the man well — in my 33 years I’d spent less than a total of 40 hours with him. Mostly, I went for my mom, to support her during what has been a difficult two months. My uncle was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in early November. The disease ravaged him quickly.
While the passing of a loved one brings families close together (physically), it also has a way of bringing out some ugliness (emotionally). Even before his death on 12/21/08, relatives bickered over his possessions (which were few) and neglected many of the things that mattered (finances, arrangmenets, etc). Fortunately, the arguments didn’t last long. Today’s service was moving.
The viewing/Rosary was held last night, and I brought along my 4 year-old son. I explained to him that we were saying goodbye to my uncle, that he was moving to Heaven to be with God. “When is it our turn?” my son asked. Hopefully, not for a very, very, long time.
Doug Wilson, “Weeds” Season 4
Newell man dies in collision with horse » RapidCityJournal.com 
Cockpuncher!
“Cockpuncher” is by far the best 80 seconds of “The Onion Movie.”
