- joseph james cawein

Bottle Poems 2014

I

Daybreak will bring coffee drinkers,
pout faced and mouse eyed
with little snarls behind 
their smiles.

They want more butter on their toast,
they want less belly in their britches.

I will do my best to please them,
until my whiskey,
2 p.m.


II

She had the sense of humor
of a very refined and intelligent
adolescent.

our paths never crossed

or maybe they did

maybe i met her in the back of a taxi
in the middle of my REM

either way,
i miss her.


III

I can't remember the last time
I had a dream
that was actually pleasant.

It's usually something tepid,
like I'm taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey
at the register
while a fat woman with a chihuahua
scowls at me.

A mixture of dead ambition
and restless disquiet.

Other times it can be downright frightful.

There I am at the register

and the woman 
is there
and the chihuahua
is there

but the bottle 
is nowhere to be seen


IV

There are many fine poets

Fish monger poets

landscaper poets

little girl poets

poets with large breasts

poets all scowls and jowls

poets with butterfly tattoos.

I know heroine poets

and AA poets 

and poets who ejaculate in closets.

I've met bird poets

and grass poets 

and tree poets 

and road poets

and some have even captured my interest.

live poets

& die poets,

love poets

& hate poets.

I know truth poets

and lie poets

and bar poets 

and stink poets.

I read their poems 

all the time.

Poets who don't seem to know

they're writing.