Sunday, April 29, 2007

there once was a man from nantucket

there once was a man from nantucket

with a very sad face.
who tried really hard at things and didn't enjoy his job.
who ended up trying to buy a lottery ticket one night from a soda machine.
who put an ad in the paper for a helper.
and he cried sometimes at near-night.
and he enjoyed radio static.
who lived near another man, also from nantucket, who turned out to be a serial killer.

there once was a man from nantucket

with multiple lesions that required ointments.
who pulled up his shirt to look at his stomach in bathroom mirrors.
who proceeded with caution.
who dictated notes to his cat who did not understand him.
and he trusted his cat.
and he pelted his bushes with pebbles.
who remembered, one night, the one week he was a crossing guard in grade school, and then remembered that he would die one day.

there once was a man from nantucket

with a careful part in his hair.
who had small triumphs, and kept them on his dresser.
who watched his toes when he was in the shower.
who slept but he did not dream.
and he resented it.
and he took vitamins to induce dreams.
who, at the age of 34, tried to eat an entire restaurant size jar of peanut butter and a neighbor found him unconscious on his porch.

there once was a man from nantucket

with a bit of something on his mustache.
who bitterly kept old pictures of himself that he took of himself.
who, tonight, is going through old newspaper clippings.
who lightened up a bit when he thought the Sox would take the series for sure.
and they let him down.
and he took vitamins to induce a pop up.
who, when asked whether he preferred paper or plastic, just shrugged, and pulled at his mustache.

there once was a man from nantucket

with a drawl, strangely enough.
who accidentally vacuumed up his cat with the vacuum he bought from a late night infomercial.
who apologized to his cat.
who did not see his cat again.
and he became more stoic and more intense.
and he tried, in bed, to kill himself by thinking about everything there was to think about at once.
who, when his neighbor found him, had thoughts growing out of his ears like vines.

there once was a man from nantucket

with a large, caring family.
who all arrived at his funeral.
who all trembled in grief because his death made them think of their own mortality.
who all vaguely remembered him as being intelligent.
and the cat, somewhere, remembered a sound the man made when he was dictating.
and the cat, who was orange, pawed at a dead mouse.
who, while the cat was pawing, was actually not quite dead.

8 comments:

jess said...

really lovely. this made me cry a little. i want to give the man from nantucket a hug and a milkshake.

Bryan said...

me too.

Alex said...

this a fucking triumph. i really really liked this:

with a careful part in his hair.
who had small triumphs, and kept them on his dresser.
who watched his toes when he was in the shower.
who slept but he did not dream.

i know this guy! i worked for him @ fred myers. he was a dick.

this made me sad, but happy in it's honesty and beauty. this should go into your chapbook for sure!

Mike Young said...

Si, this is really good.

Willie Z said...

clap clap clap

Danyn said...

::claps too::

K. Silem Mohammad said...

more claps

Bryan said...

thanks for the applause.

er... *bows*