John Grochalski- Three Poems

miracles

my mother believes in miracles

and i don’t seem to believe in anything

she’s seen them happen

and i’m curious as to where

she tells me that the she believes

in a personal god

and i laugh at her

which is wrong

i tell my mother that i try finding god

at the bottom of a wine bottle

which is worse?

she tells me not to talk like that

that life is good if you want it to be

i think optimism is much harder to swallow

when it comes from family

maybe i just expect more from genetics

than everyone else

still

my mother believes in miracles

the heavenly and the concrete

she has a whole list of things

that she’s seen and can’t explain in this world

and maybe

i have too

which is why we’ll never see

eye to eye

on this.

ebullience

the sounds

of the teenagers

on this bus

screaming

squealing

cackling

whatever it is

that they have

that i don’t this evening

a careless constitution

a ceaseless joy

unburdened youth

or simply the music of

such a finite ebullience

makes me spit out

the pink saliva and blood

caught between

the red swells of my gums

and brown tartar

of my slowly

rotting

teeth.

door

i have this problem

i can’t stop checking things in the apartment

like the faucets

to see if they’re turned off

or the radio

the living room windows

the shower to see if it’s leaking

it’s like my mind is fucking with me

whenever i want to go somewhere or go to bed

then these demons of doubt arrive

they drive me nuts

i drive my poor wife nuts with this most days

christ, i feel so bad

but i just can’t help myself

because i’ve been doing it

even since i was a kid

and the old man fell asleep with the doors unlocked

the occasional cigarette burning in the ashtray

checking the electric range to see if it’s still on

examining outlets not in use

the hum of the refrigerator

or right now

standing at this front door

just like old times

pulling on it so much to see if it’s really locked

that i’m surprised i haven’t broken the knob

rousting the super’s wife

out of her apartment and into the hallway

with cell phone in hand

to see what’s the matter

hoping to catch a creep in the act

but seeing only me

sweating and overwhelmed

the drunken fool from apartment 1R

telling her that everything is all right

before giving this door a few more tugs for good measure

and wondering whether or not

i left the hall light on

praying i won’t have to go back inside

and start this whole, torturous process

all over again.

bio:  John Grochalski lives and breathes in Brooklyn, New York