By the time that I finally climbed
out of my polluted mind
it was October.
and I crawled out of my cave
pulled one foot back
out of the grave
and pulled on a pair of pants
found a shirt that would work
and did a little getting-dressed dance
but with a mountain of dirty laundry,
and no clean socks in sight…
flip-flops would do just fine, right?
so i grabbed a good book
and took my reusable coffee mug from the table,
placed them in my bag
and finally i was able to step outside
and as i was beginning to feel thankful I was still alive
and excited for the strong coffee
that awaits at the cafe,
I saw that it was raining…
and it was a hard rain falling
so i walked back into the house
put on a pair of dirty socks
and thrift-store shoes,
took a glance over at the booze
but shook my head
because I know Jack could care less
if i was dead
but he is a good friend to wait with
but I could spend my whole life waiting with him
on the world to change
just like i could spend all day
waiting on the rain
to go away
but sometimes it’s just a rainy day
and I still need fresh air
and I want that pumpkin spice coffee
from the Sugar Bowl
and I miss hearing that Polish accent behind the counter
though I don’t know why
maybe because my great-grandmother
probably sounded like that
back in the day when she came
to the land of the free…
but here, i have to pay for refills,
but that’s okay
and even on a rainy day
I know things will be okay
in the grand scheme of things
and life is good, right?
so long as we look on the bright side…
like seeing the beauty on Dot Ave
even on a rainy day
as the cars drive by
and the children play
on the streets named after the children of Irish immigrants
near the modern day Vietnamese businesses
and isn’t it ironic?
and the old men smoke and joke
and the college kids laugh and toke and come in for ice cream
and the grandmothers carry bags
of groceries
and bags under their eyes
etched through the years for their Irish-American sons
or their Vietnamese sons
both killed in a political war…
and both of their American grandsons and granddaughters
still fighting in new political wars
and i need more coffee
though now I want to make it Irish
and it’s still raining
and it’s the first day of October
and less and less people care
that it’s bombs over Baghdad once again
and the newsmen talk of an aging Tom Brady
throwing two interceptions
not a word of TWENTY-TWO American women and men
throwing in the towel every day
on lives they view as too painful to take
Twenty-Two Veterans committing suicide every single day
but it’s not like we can invade the VA
or the beltway…
and more dead civilians
and soldiers
by the rivers of Babylon
won’t make the demons go away
and just as i am trying my best
to find the beauty
of rainy day Dorchester Avenue
I look up and it’s still raining
and the old men are gone now
and the kids are gone
probably at home playing violent video games
and the college kids are giggling in the back of the cafe
over their melting ice cream
and the grandmothers are probably home for the day
drinking tea in their rocking chairs
as Fox News scares them half to death
that’s not far away for them as it is
and as I walk up for a refill of pumpkin spice coffee
listening to Lowkey rap about the world in my earphones
two tinted out, all black SUV’s park out front
“Boston Police SWAT”
says the white lettering
on the armored vehicles…
and they walk inside
one at first,
followed by three more
all geared up and armed
and I’m getting anxiety
though I’m doing nothing wrong
and as I walk back to my seat
with round two of pumpkin spice coffee
they order their own coffee
and muffins and donuts
and sit down and shoot the shit
the same as the now-sketched out college kids in the back
I know they’re just 4 dudes, human beings…i get it
but I also know goddamn well what these armed men represent
these are the same folks
who arrested me twice
for civil disobedience during Occupy Boston
and bloodied the nose of a decorated Korean War vet…
in the days when I learned
there’s no such thing as ‘freedom of speech’
and these men don’t deserve any respect
and if they really need a cup of Joe
for fuck’s sake, why can’t they get it to go?
‘they got a job to do’…okay, fine!
But nobody in here’s committed a crime
and I’m trying to stay positive
trying to read my book in peace
and find the beauty of Dot Ave
even on a rainy day
I don’t need these SWAT goons
smoking and joking and eyeballing my tattoos
but in case they’re wondering, yes this is an upside down flag
and that is Arabic and Hebrew on both my wrists
Salaam and Shalom,
and I mean it…
and I came here in peace
just to get a pumpkin spice coffee and read
a book about a community garden in Cleveland
and i know that you four are human
and I’m not acting anxious
because I’m breaking any law
It’s because when you walked in
the first thing I saw
was the Glock
and I know
that you could get away with it
if I went up for more pumpkin spice coffee
and you thought I was too aggressive,
worst case for you
you’d get a paid vacation
or stuck behind a desk…
so, I apologize
for these being the thoughts in my head
when I look up from a rainy Dorchester Avenue
and see you and your crew
roll up in armored trucks
and how can i concentrate on this book now,
fuck…
but at least, for right now
I’m glad I’m not dead
it’s October and raining…
but I made it
out of bed
and after I sat back down
with my pumpkin spice coffee
and changed the music to Jimi
I was able to relax and finish the book
and pay no mind to the authoritative looks
and stares…
after all,
maybe they were just admiring
the artwork on my arms.
soitgoes1984 