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UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY - 11/2011
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TONY PENA Preferred customer Shop, shop. Ostrich, alligator, The more endangered The better the skin To wrap around The shoes, The bags. The rush Keeps you stoked Through Caesar salad and cabernet At the Cabaret Café, Batting eyelashes At the busboy Till the speed wears off. Still a pulse on the American Express So you hop in your red Mercedes roadster and ride To Bloomingdales and Bergdorf’s Pit stopping in between For some Tangeray and tonic to temper The mid afternoon crash and tint The contacts rose till night falls. After inhaling a bloody t-bone At the Samurai Steakhouse You wipe a spittle of vomit from your chin Before vying for and winning theattention Of a baby faced traveling salesman Twenty years your junior, Knee deep in seven and sevens at thebar. Leading your prey to your lair Of an apartment spotless From the efforts of the afternoon maid, You fuck what’s his name till three AM When he begs off a third orgasm Because of a big deal morningpresentation. You steal his red Bert Pulitzer tie Because he left the toilet seat up And refused a kiss goodnight. You wake at eleven with chapped lips, A throat coated with a stale stickiness And a mouth full of hot cotton. You puke, piss and stumble To the cracked mirror on the wall Streaks of crimson criss crossing The egg whites of your eyes Underneath which a dark pool Circles like a moat Surrounding ruins. Even all the leather bought The day before looks worn Threadbare like the pre tanned hides Of a beaten animal. You lay out your makeup Like a Van Gogh palette and paint For over an hour Until death is glossed over Freeing you to the task of filling The hole of another day. Tony Pena lives in Beacon, New York. He has relatively recently begun writing poetry in earnest again after a twenty year hiatus. Previously published in Slipstream many moons ago as well as several other small mags which may or may not be in existence anymore, he has recently been published in Gutter Eloquence and Chronogram. |
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