Monthly Archives: September 2009

bedtime story (the title is superfluous)

shiny pants
coat & tie slippery
hot saturday afternoon
a lawyer
down bar
texting in
a deposition
w/a shot & a beer
hard to tell
whos doing who
a titty bartender
flatters him back
. . . can she get what hes got
without sodomy or a verdict
down on th gold coast
. . . probably with & without
& i’ll hang around
as her genuine
backdoor man
. . . for fullcourt control
he calls to th poet bailif
excuse me
i ignore the charge
how do you spell victim
he yells
entrapting a witness
victim or victum?
i-em    i shout
as if the phonics prove
in this charade
if he cant spell it
is it mistrial
or just well hung
. . . justice @ th side bar

Jim Lang

Hood Bitch

she struts Lincoln Park
owning it

downtown skyline
to her back
not some suburban transplant
a true denizen of my hood

a playground
for speculators
with enough money
to profit off the poor

hood bitch

right there
on her right shoulder blade
more than the developers
she does own the hood

she will not leave
for a better school district
for a better neighborhood
for a better zip code
because her employer requires it

spaghetti strap
drapes across the ink
a title she wears proudly
in a neighborhood
where she
was born
grew up
and now
raises her family

it does not read:
transplant bitch


the carousel’s for sale

like the earth
like a man-hole cover
concealing the depths
yet allowing foul odors
& steam temporary
like a pregnant woman’s
belly or a burned out
light bulb
the shape of a thing don’t
always give credence to
its function
geometry vs geomancy
reason vs random
sometimes it’s only the
angle the way you look
at something or the reason
you look at it a tiny bullet
kills what a speeding car
only maims a tiny virus
infects while lightning
strikes & deflects w/out harm
it’s all in the trajectory
(vs tragedy)