I lean over
and
kiss her
at a party.
I'm holding
a glass
of cold
beer
in one hand,
and a
cigarette
in the other.
Crass
blasts
from a
cheap stereo
in the
corner.
She looks
at me,
grins
and sips
her vodka.
Someone
pulls a
keg
into the
room.
Two girls
laugh
in the
corner.
I smile
at her,
as outside,
girls sleep
alone
in their
bedrooms;
parents
worry about
their
children;
two cars
crash
on the
highway;
an old man
knows
it's all
over
now.
She winks
at me
and
pours me
another
beer.
Poetry about the drinking life, punk rock, recovery, heartbreak and loss. Thank you for visiting. You can reach me at nuggetsvolume1@gmx.com. If you like what you see, and would like to help me out with a donation, please go to https://www.gofundme.com/help-a-struggling-poet
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Better Than Starbucks
Two of my poems have been published in Better Than Starbucks magazine. You can view them here: https://www.betterthanstarbucks.org/poetry-free-verse
Friday, October 19, 2018
Hemingway
Back
in school
they
taught us
English.
They
tried to
tell us
about
The Masters.
We'd
chain-smoke
in front
of brick
buildings
and stare
at girls.
We needed
an education.
They
made us
take notes.
It was
all
very serious.
I don't
know what
art is:
her hair
was art,
the shape
of her lips
was art,
the way
we kissed
on warm,
drunken nights
was art.
I throw
my cigarette
into
an ashtray
and walk
to class.
in school
they
taught us
English.
They
tried to
tell us
about
The Masters.
We'd
chain-smoke
in front
of brick
buildings
and stare
at girls.
We needed
an education.
They
made us
take notes.
It was
all
very serious.
I don't
know what
art is:
her hair
was art,
the shape
of her lips
was art,
the way
we kissed
on warm,
drunken nights
was art.
I throw
my cigarette
into
an ashtray
and walk
to class.
Tuesday, September 18, 2018
Vistant Lit
One of my poems, "Date", has been published on Visitant Lit. You can view it here: https://visitantlit.com/2018/09/18/date/
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Burgers and Fries
I walk
into
McDonald's
and order
my food.
Sweat
drips down
my forehead;
the summer
heat
is melting
my
neighborhood.
The girl
behind
the counter
is young
and
beautiful.
Her eyes
radiate
a tired
energy.
She has
the look of
minimum
wage.
She seems
like she
wants
to throw
down
a tray
and scream.
I want
to scream
with her.
She hands
me
my food
and I walk
to the
corner.
I sit there,
eating
in silence,
as old men
walk
in and out
the door.
into
McDonald's
and order
my food.
Sweat
drips down
my forehead;
the summer
heat
is melting
my
neighborhood.
The girl
behind
the counter
is young
and
beautiful.
Her eyes
radiate
a tired
energy.
She has
the look of
minimum
wage.
She seems
like she
wants
to throw
down
a tray
and scream.
I want
to scream
with her.
She hands
me
my food
and I walk
to the
corner.
I sit there,
eating
in silence,
as old men
walk
in and out
the door.
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Hangover in Paradise
I stand
next to you
and order
two shots.
The neon
lights
behind
the bar
are so bright
they
blind me.
I take
my shot:
someone
plays
classic rock
on the
jukebox.
I light
a cigarette
and grab
your hand.
Two old
drunks
talk
and laugh
in the corner.
I kiss
your neck
and look
into
your eyes.
You
and me,
kid,
we're
doomed.
next to you
and order
two shots.
The neon
lights
behind
the bar
are so bright
they
blind me.
I take
my shot:
someone
plays
classic rock
on the
jukebox.
I light
a cigarette
and grab
your hand.
Two old
drunks
talk
and laugh
in the corner.
I kiss
your neck
and look
into
your eyes.
You
and me,
kid,
we're
doomed.
Friday, June 1, 2018
Keep St. Pete Lit
This blog was featured on the Keep St. Pete Lit website. This is a great new resource for writers in the St. Pete/Clearwater area. You can view me here:
http://keepstpetelit.org/r-j-zeman/
http://keepstpetelit.org/r-j-zeman/
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