Don’t Come In Here If You’re Not Sick

“I don’t feel well”
And I spun
Nausea induced fun
Still spinning still ready to vomit
Weird spirals in my stomach
“I don’t feel well”
I said
But it didn’t help
They were helping someone else
Someone who couldn’t tell
Up from down
“I don’t feel well” I said and sat heavy
“Join the club” a woman said nursing a baby
The doctor never came for two hours
To settle my stomach I ate one of the flowers
Someone glared and I said “I have diarrhea”
He threw me a napkin and said “eat in the cafeteria”
So I went there to eat
Slumped in a chair
And ate a sandwich as well
Some woman asked
If I was dying
“Yes” I said “from feeling unwell”
I saw the doctor
And she thought I was okay
“Don’t come in here if you’re not sick” she said “especially on a holiday”
And I went home feeling worse
I wasn’t even sick!
And the worst part of it all
I felt like a prick!

First I Struck The Sun

I began fighting
First I struck the sun
It wobbled
Then came undone
Then I punched the stars
And kicked the moon into the cars
I jumped hard on the earth
And up flew the dirt
I crammed God into a shirt
And paraded him around
Until the meek who inherit the earth
Said “put our father down”
I began fighting
I ran fast and kicked the plastic snowman
And he went down the road rolling
I jumped on the reindeer
As a joke!
And shot elves down into the fireplaces
Until the air was acrid plastic smoke –

We Boarded The Spaceshuttle At Dawn

We boarded the spaceshuttle at dawn
Singing a song
Before they could record us
The aliens waited patiently
They promised to reward us
And across the universe at speeds unknown
I couldn’t understand the principles
Even when shown
And on the planet out there somewhere
We participated in a ritual
That they did with the dead
Each of us had to drink the white liquid
From the alien corpses head
And they returned us home after not long
It was perhaps that guys song
That turned them off

A Really Good One

“You’re gonna have to write a really good one” Dave said
“Why?” I asked
“Because you’ve been writing rubbish”
“It’s fun”
“You don’t feel embarrassed?”
“No.  Why would I?”
“Because many of your poems get one or two likes”
“So that is poor performance when your views average 10”
“I guess.  But nobody is perfect”
“Is that so?”
“What about Jesus?”
“Jesus was not perfect”
“Yes he was”
I began writing another poem and Dave watched
Shaking his head
“Go away” I said
“Hey.  You’re hallucinating me.  I must have some reason for being here”
“Yeah as a critic and outright slanderer”
“Shit for brains”
“Pretentious old poet”
“Figment of imagination”
I left the room
Slamming the door
Dave followed
“Leave me alone” I said
“Not until you write a better poem” he said

You’re Gonna Need Gas In There

“It’s hard” I said
“What is?” the manager said
“This job”
“You’re on break”
“I know.  But it’s difficult to relax here”
He walked out over the plank
And jumped down
Into the sump
“You’re gonna need gas in there” he said
“I know” I said chewing a sandwich
He climbed back up
And went to check the end of the hose
“That’s enough here” he said “you’re gonna have to move it”
“Yeah” I said
“How much more break do you have left?”
“Five minutes”
The pump sputtered out
And silence
I chewed my sandwich slowly
Looked at my watch
And drank some tea from the managers thermos
“Hey” he said “that’s not for now”
“When’s it for?” I asked
“Later” he said “when we have to wait for the truck”
“Why then?”
“That’s when I like to have it”
I drank some more
And I began thinking about my novel
And accidently finished it
My manager climbed up the embankment
“Hey” he said “you ate all the sandwiches?”
“There was only two” I said
“Yeah one was for me” he said
He shook the thermos
“And you drank all the tea?” he asked
I didn’t answer
It was a stupid question
I got up
And got the gas and headed down the embankment to the pump
“You’re greedy” muttered my manager
“I know” I said “my parents used to say that too”

He Wanted To Work In Editing

There was a new producer
So I went to see him
To ask for a raise
And his son was there
And he wanted to work in editing
“Well you have to log at least 300 hours of TV every fortnight”
The producer smiled
His son looked worried but then said “I think I could do that”
“And editing on top of that”
“When do I sleep?”
“No sleeping while the movie is being made.  There is a strict deadline”
“How do I have time to get some food in me?”
“We don’t eat.  We take these” I showed him some pills
“Drugs!” he said and even the producer looked surprised
“Relax!” I said “they are just Wake Ups.  Caffeine.  Same as coffee.  But there is no time for coffee”
“When is the next film?” the producer’s son asked
“It’s being shot now.  We’ll start editing Wednesday.  If you want on the crew start practicing”
“Log as much TV as you can.  At least 100 hours this week”
The producer thanked me
And as I was about to leave
I asked for the raise
“No” he said
And smiled