Sunday, September 28, 2014

Joseph Altamore- Three Poems

[The Real Question]

okay
look I really don't need
to tell you this

dear reader,
the answer is just
something
you do not need
to know

don't you want to hear
instead
about the miracle
of love?
about the eternal struggle
to succeed in the
face of failure?
what about the great
tides of fate
how they twist and turn
our
fragile bodies
through time and space
on an aimless
journey
without cause?
without reason?

isn't all that
more
interesting to you?

no!
I refuse to be
your whore!
you should be
ashamed
of yourself for even
asking
such a question!
I will not
stoop
to sharing such
intimate

information...
publicly...

it's about
six and a half
inches


 
[The Surprise]

"wait right here and don't
leave this bed"
my girlfriend tells me

"I have a
surprise for you,
dear"

I hadn't really
planned on leaving before
if she'd let me alone
I'd have had
far less a desire

to creep downstairs
and find out
what exactly it is she's
preparing
making
pouring for me

I was never very good
with surprises

it never seems to occur
to people that
their surprise could be bad

what if your surprise
is a couple of
good slugs from a .38
or
a breakfast laced with
arsenic?

as a child
growing up in a
traditional italian
household
I was always waiting for
my father
to really lose it
and kill my mother and I

you have to be ready
for these things
just in case

I kept my bat
a louisville slugger I had
gotten on our trip to
kentucky
under my bed
and stuffed dirty clothes
in the
crack beneath my door
to make it more difficult
to open
then I'd wait all night
for sudden noises
always ready to grab the bat
and run into the closet
adjacent to the
door

to pounce when
he least
expected

now my girlfriend
comes back
upstairs with a tray
"good morning, baby!"

she sits the tray
with assorted foods
right in my lap

ah, breakfast in bed
do I dare?

I look at those sweet
young, earnest
eyes
ardent and lovely

I dare:
I plunge my fork
into a yoke

one day, ellie,
you will
kill me with your
love



[Nice Bathroom]

my friend
has a nice home
he has
the kind of sprinkler system
that turns on
at
5intheafternoon
ever other
day
of the week

he has a
big
3cargarage
and
women say they love
his
enormous

motorcycle

anyway,
this friend,
I was over at his house
once
drinking something
from peru or
bermuda or
aruba

some country where the u
is pronounced "oo"

and
I needed to
piss

"I need to
piss"
I say

"okay"
he tells me
"4th door down
the hall
on your left"

"how will I know
if I've gone
too far?"
I joke,
half serious

but
my friend only laughs
a little

rich people
don't like to joke
about being
rich

they are
afraid the
lavish lifestyle of luxury
will be
taken from them
the second they plead
to
the crime of wealth

I walk down the hall
garnished
with
portraits of people
that do not
live here
and mirrors
(to make the already gigantic
house look
even
larger)
to the bathroom

I open the door
(they are the kind of
people that keep
all the doors
closed)
and a pungent
aroma
of something,
some flowery smell,
envelopes
me

the bathroom is the
best smelling
room in the house
with a shiny
pearl
sink
and the toilet
flushes
itself

the fucking
toilet
flushes itself!

I use it
and leave without
washing
my hands

then
I return to my friend
"nice bathroom"
I say

"thanks"
he says

he
knew what
I meant

I don't think
it's related, but we haven't
seen one another
since then

I should probably
phone him
soon

I miss
he and his bathroom
so

one a little more
than
the other

11 comments:

  1. man, I feel bad for your girlfriend. you're a prime example of white male entitlement. and dude, give us some imagery. we can't relate to your observations on a world that you're not even conveying. boring stuff. try a bit harder next time.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I totally agree. Terrible. Just terrible.

      Delete
    2. what a coincidence, both comments are exactly one hour within each other, this totally isn't the same person...... you coward, if you're going to say shit like this reveal who you are instead of commenting anonymously. seriously fuck you, you don't need to bring eveyone else down just because your poetry is a bunch of poopy ass dick. yeah that's right, i said poopy ass dick because you're poetry is so bad that it doesn't even deserve to be called shit. go drag scrotum in a mile of broken glass you sulking pigfuck.

      Delete
    3. Someone is a salty anon...

      Delete
  2. wow dude. honestly, as a friend of yours who is too scared to say this to your face, you should really think about doing something else.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. WOW DUDE, clearly you're no friend of joe's if you feel the need to tell him this anonymously. you should really think about being friends with someone else if you're this big of a douchebag. learn to have some integrity while you're at it too, fucker.

      Delete
  3. Your stories are good, but you need work on your poetic devices. These seem more like stories that you wrote on a keyboard with a sometimes-broken spacebar and a return key next to where the sometimes-broken spacebar is located. It's more distracting than poetic in my opinion.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I think somebody's jealous..because they don't have friends with great bathrooms..lol great poetry unique and to the point!

    ReplyDelete
  5. I love The Real Question- it's unique, kindof deep, but hilarious at the same time. I do agree with one anonymous when he/she says that more poetic devices would be helpful. They can convey alott of meaning and feeling indirectly and more effectively than just words or lines, even simple devices like alliteration. Great job overall though!

    ReplyDelete
  6. This is beautiful. I especially enjoyed The Surprise. A lot of love and work goes into these poems, you can tell.

    ReplyDelete
  7. as a child
    growing up in a
    traditional italian
    household
    I was always waiting for
    my father
    to really lose it
    and kill my mother and I


    Remember the dream you had years ago, when something like this happened? - new apartment renter

    ReplyDelete