you experience the sudden realization that you are alone. a drunk person is told he can stay as long as he keeps his head above the bar. a tv show features this married couple that fights way too often. each time they fight one of them says something funny. they laugh at the funny thing. they kiss and make up. you sleep with the lights on.

you have this horrible gut feeling that something terrible is about to happen. a medicine is being marketed for rheumatoid arthritis in one tv commercial. the same medicine is being marketed for crohn’s disease in another commercial. in high school your history class went to the capitol. you sat down in the senate and played government for an entire weekend. you solved all the world’s problems.

you watch an infomercial about the healing power of light. how it can cure your pain and suffering. a man couldn’t open jars but now he can. you are thinking ‘wow i am the future.’ you list the sequence of choices you made to get to the future and you are pretty surprised with yourself. you purchase a lavender-scented can of raid®.

hansel and gretel left breadcrumbs behind thinking: ‘foolproof.’ you imagine yourself eating the breadcrumbs as they hit the ground. you are crawling along the forest floor eating the breadcrumbs. you read somewhere on the internet that the breadcrumbs were actually ‘white pebbles.’ you are crawling along the forest floor eating the white pebbles. some old couple on tv is finally understanding the life-changing effects of the swiffer sweeper®.

a cartoon lady on tv realizes she needs a new prescription to make this old prescription actually do its job. you secretly wish for a prescription that would make you actually do your job. you try to remember the first time you said ‘i’m sorry’ when you should have said ‘fuck you. you hurt me.’

somehow the idea of this cartoon lady popping multiple pills to make the other pills cure her sadness for the rest of her life doesn’t make her more sad. you are extra sad on her behalf. you almost expect the cartoon lady to face the viewer and say ‘what the fuck is this shit.’ your mother passes you a local newspaper and insists you read an opinion column. the column insists that poetry is the best kind of writing. a little girl cradled in her father’s arms points to you and says ‘what’s that.’

you are trying to touch your bottom lip at the exact point where it meets normal skin. you look at a pile of laundry and your entire brain turns into needles. your best friend walks you through basic chores like doing the dishes or feeding your body. it feels like your friend is more like a hired ‘fixer’ kept on retainer for real-bad fuck-ups. you feel like you are a real-bad fuck-up.

you sob on the phone to the red cross of america. you beg them not to call anymore. they can’t ask for your blood anymore. you swallow a beer without noticing the brand. the father whispers to the little girl in his arms and says ‘that’s a person.’ he folds his hand over the little girl’s pointed finger to hide the shame.

a man walks down the street dropping great value™ flour on the sidewalk at random intervals. you follow it into a room full of red couches. a complete stranger tells another complete stranger ‘i don’t get it’ and ‘i don’t give a shit.’ you take an empty beer bottle from their table and start chewing on the glass. you tell the stranger that ‘forgive’ and ‘forget’ got lost in the forest a long time ago. how you cooked and ate those two words whole.

 

 

 

John Mortara
is a poet/author/publisher/person/creature that currently lives in their car. john mortara is from new jersey originally. sorry. john mortara is the founder of voicemailpoems.org. john mortara is the exact amount of time it will take for neil armstrong’s “one small step” footprint to have eroded away from the sea of tranquility completely. john’s new poetry collection some planet is now available through YesYes Books. john mortara was recently selected for a special low interest unlimited 1% cash back credit card. john mortara lost their job somewhere in texas after spending their life savings on candy. oops. johnmortara.com is a website they have.
Filed under: Poetry

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