Page 5 of Lost In Thought


  Swear Barrier

  Out with a group of people

  That I don’t know very well

  Kind of cautious

  Kind of on edge

  To watch my mouth

  And what I’ve said

  And then someone breaks it

  Blows right through the norms

  Lets loose with a swear or two

  Like it was nothing

  And from that point on

  There’s no looking back

  The swear barrier has been broken

  Shattered in tatters on the floor

  It’s ok to say those words now

  The water’s been tested

  No one’s been offended

  So feel free to swear at will

  Let loose and say it all

  October 5, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Kind of an unwritten thing with me. I will never be the first one to swear in a group of people I don’t know very well. Mostly out of politeness, but I also never want to offend someone who might find vulgarities offensive.

  Violated The Unspoken Rule

  Driving up I-95

  Into New Hampshire

  When I felt the need

  And it was then when

  I saw the rest stop

  So I pulled in and parked

  So I walked in and parked

  In front of the first one

  Along a long wall of porcelain

  I stood there staring

  Straight ahead at the tiny

  Tiny graffiti written in

  The grout in front of me

  Where someone wrote

  “Taco” in little letters

  Trying to figure out why

  When someone stood

  Right next to me

  Obviously not seeing

  The ten empty urinals

  Stretching down the wall

  Violating the unspoken rule

  Breaking the code we all

  Follow pretty basic it seems

  That we always leave an

  Empty one in between

  Maybe he wanted to read

  What I was reading

  Maybe he was just an idiot

  Who likes pissing

  Off other guys by violating

  The unspoken rules

  We all live by

  Either way I was happy

  To get back in my car

  And get back to driving

  October 6, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  This happened to me today while driving back from the Topsfield Fair and Newburyport.

 

  Putting On Wet Clothes

  I don’t want to

  Be here

  Be the one

  Dealing with you

  Anytime

  All the time

  In this situation

  Especially

  It’s as difficult as

  Putting on wet clothes

  Something you

  Don’t want to do

  All cards on the table

  It’s annoying

  It’s uncomfortable

  It’s grating

  Somewhat unstable

  It’s not for me

  I like my clothes

  Dry and warm

  Not cold and wet

  No use having a wet blanket

  Smothering smoldering

  The fire that I feel

  So if you don’t mind

  I’d like to toss you

  In the dryer and get on

  With the rest of my day

  October 13, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Not really written about any one person or situation in particular. I was getting dressed today and I was thinking about washing clothes for some reason and I was slightly thankful that my clothes were dry. Then I started to think about how annoying and grating it is to put on wet clothes. That thought stuck with me for the rest of the day until I wrote this.

  Writing Is Life

  A sliver of slightly

  The tiniest twinges

  The smallest of smidgeons

  The nimblest nuances

  Of what I see

  Of what I observe

  Become the

  Piles of perfection

  Superfluous subdivisions

  Hugest of happenstance

  That I write

  That I get out

  Of the experience

  Since observing

  Becomes writing

  And writing is

  A reflection of life

  Therefore

  Writing is life

  October 19, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  I didn’t set out to make such a huge declaration with this poem. It was a random thought, which became more.

  Seasonal Lag

  Fully immersed in

  A sea of colors

  A week past their prime

  Fading and falling

  Paired with a crisp chill

  During the sunny days

  Lacking the warmth

  Despite the sun’s best efforts

  College kids are done

  With their midterms

  Autumn is half over

  And here I am

  As I always am

  Wondering what happened

  To that last season

  Where did it go

  Where was I

  When it said goodbye?

  Probably at work

  And the few times I find

  Myself free is when I find

  My world has changed

  Around me without telling me

  The last to know once again

  Finding myself fully entrenched

  In my usual

  And now predictable

  Seasonal lag

  October 20, 2003

  Methuen, Massachusetts

  Another poem that popped into my mind while eating lunch in the car.

  Small Town Strip Mall

  Small town strip mall

  With a parking lot made

  For a time when

  This was where everyone shopped

  A time before

  The modern stores

  Dug in a few miles away

  I sit here looking at

  A parking lot way too big

  Cars crisscrossing across

  I’m amazed no one hits each other

  In front of the one long continuous building

  Housing the second rate stores

  A nail salon on the left side

  With the blue and red neon

  Burning brightly in the twilight

  A dry cleaner aptly named Royal

  As if it could bring the missing elegance

  To this forgotten, forsaken place

  A pizza place known only in

  The New England area

  The kind of place with

  The kind of food that makes you

  Wonder why they’re still open

  A chain pharmacy store where

  You won’t be surprised to see

  The sign with the letter ‘P’

  That burnt out some time ago

  The big store in the middle

  Closed last spring, I think

  “Anchor away!” I say seeing

  The big empty spot in the

  Smack dab in the middle

  Then the generic liquor store

  With the non-descript sign

  Simply stating, Liquors

  Perfect for those shoppers

  Who are wishing to remain

  Anonymous, I’m guessing

  Then there’s the small local

  Bank that is one of a few

  Branches they have at all

  Followed by the low-end

  Supermarket that takes the word

  The word ‘super’ and exaggerates it

  Behin
d me, across the large

  Empty parking lot is the

  McDonald’s which sits there

  Alone like it’s trying to

  Distance itself

  Further itself

  From the strip mall over there

  Because it’ll bruise or tarnish

  Ronald’s reputation or something

  I don’t like this place much

  But sadly, it’s in a good location

  And easy to get to so I continue

  To come here every once in a while

  October 21, 2003

  Methuen, Massachusetts

  I stopped to McDonald’s off of Exit 46 off of I-93 tonight for two, well, three reasons: I was hungry, I wanted more of the McDonald’s Monopoly game pieces, and the traffic was awful on I-93. After I ate I sat there for a few minutes, looked at the crappy strip mall, and pulled out my Palm Pilot, getting to work on this poem.

  Mind The Importance

  Trying to remember the thoughts

  That flowed so freely earlier today

  Like cheap crappy American beer

  At any conveniently located frat party

  Sitting here at the ready to write

  And take the cool words and phrases

  And run with them like I usually do

  At lunch there seemed to be more

  Ideas than lies at a good employee’s firing

  But stupid me I forgot to write them

  Forgot to record them

  Because I thought

  I could remember them

  Or actually didn’t think

  And that’s the problem

  I had trusted my mind

  To mind the importance

  Of the amazing lines

  That raced across

  So fleetingly

  And faded from

  The forefront by

  My wandering mind

  As I let unimportant things

  Get in the way of what

  I should have tried

  To dearly hold

  Onto tightly

  October 22, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Heh. I can so totally tell where I got the idea to write the poem “Burning Question” because that’s when I lost the steam on this one. I left to write the other one and when I got back I was like “uhhh…what was I trying to say?” How appropriate that it happened on this of all poems.

  Lemon

  Feel the winter in this song

  Spinning disc thinks me back

  Winter in college

  Ten years now

  Contrasting elements

  The lemon of the song

  The summery citrusy it sings

  The snow of the outside

  The wintery chilly it brings

  Looking out the wide window

  Out onto Lower Lake

  Her roommate gone

  For the night

  For the weekend

  Just us after the fun

  Candles flicking low

  Her cutely asleep

  Me happily awake

  Looking at her then

  Looking at the pond

  And the winter that surrounds

  Into the distance at Mount Tom

  Noticing the silence that pervades

  The season, the selection that I’ve

  Chosen to look over and watch

  The wind blow lightly

  The trees sway slightly

  College lights brightly

  Burning all the while

  Knowing that it’s so

  Freezing out there

  And I’m in here

  Enjoying the difference

  And watching

  As the Five College bus

  Starts to interrupt and diesel its way

  Across campus

  Across my view

  It’s the last bus of the night

  And I’m not on it

  I’m here happy in the warmth

  Satiated with my being

  Happy with what I’m seeing

  Satisfied with everything

  Pristine perfect picture

  Playing through my mind

  This scene can never end

  And it never does

  Continually reliving

  Always replaying

  Every time I hear

  Lemon

  October 25, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  Very true. Whenever I hear the song “Lemon” by U2 it totally takes me back to a winter late night/early morning at Mount Holyoke College.

  Off In The Foggy Somewhere

  I’m so totally close to something big

  As to what, I have absolutely no idea

  Something huge lurking moving

  Off in the foggy somewhere

  Always close and ever present

  An idea that I need to latch onto

  Clutch tightly and never let go

  Waiting for it patiently

  Waiting for it hopefully and

  When the inevitable happens

  When it comes across my range

  When it comes within my sights

  When I see it

  I need to realize it

  I need to seize it

  I need to capture it

  I need to make it mine

  October 25, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  A random poem for a random night.

  Clifford Remains

  Institutions leaving

  That have been here

  For over 200 years

  Being bought out

  Being swallowed up

  By bigger companies

  From other places

  They don’t know

  About the history

  They don’t care

  About what we think

  In all of this

  I guess it’s just

  Dog-eat-dog

  Until only

  Clifford remains

  October 27, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  FleetBank was bought by Bank Of America today.

  Fulcrum

  The pivotal point

  On which everything

  Rests, turns,

  And is judged upon

  Is difficult to obtain

  Is hard to ascertain

  The specific moment

  As to when one

  Became the other

  When the future

  We looked forward to

  Became the a fond

  Memory in the past

  Everything in life

  Rests on one fulcrum

  After another

  When you’ve reached

  The very last one

  It’s time to step off

  It’s time to stop

  The ups and downs

  That life is made up of

  It’s time to stop

  Playing games with

  Each one kind of fun

  In it’s own right but now

  It’s time to say goodbye

  That you’re finally done

  October 27, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  I was walking out of my room and the word “fulcrum” popped into my mind so I ran back and wrote.

  Hedgehog Water Bottle

  Thought I heard a sound

  I haven’t heard in years –

  Hedgehog water bottle

  The metal on metal

  Click click clicking

  Fast like a machine gun

  Constantly without end

  But I was wrong I guess

  It was my brother

  In the other room

  Clicking on a mouse

  October 27, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  I could have sworn that I heard the familiar sound of a hedgehog drinking from a water bottle, but it was only Todd using his (loud) mouse
in the other room.

  Simple Salsa Excursion

  Reaching in

  With a sturdy-looking chip

  My assumptions turn me

  Into that pre-warned ass

  As during the down stroke

  The crack cracks loudly

  The eyes open widely

  In amazed disbelief

  As I pull out to find

  Half the chip I sent in.

  Tipping the jar to see

  Where the rest might be

  The simple salsa excursion

  Becomes a rescue mission

  Needing to recover

  Wanting to get back

  That bottom half

  That lay stuck in

  The quagmire of

  Tomato and red.

  Lesser people would

  Have left it for dead

  Soggy at the bottom

  Of the jar, forgotten

  But I have experience

  And I have patience

  My years pitted against

  The jar before me

  I scoop, I rescue,

  And I win

  This time it went well

  What about the next time?

  Will it go so smoothly

  Or will my fingers

  Get kind of dirty

  As I have to reach in

  In order to pull out

  The rest of the chip

  October 28, 2003

  Manchester, New Hampshire

  I was eating cheap chips and the Desert Pepper Trading Company Black Bean Dip when a chip snapped. Since Salsa seemed to be the more normal accompaniment, I wrote about that instead.

  November

  30 Is The New 20

  Delayed adulthood

  30 is the new 20

  Showing how life

  Now isn’t so funny

  Grown up and living

  Back again at home

  Like some kind of infection

  Here for this generation

  Can’t afford to leave the nest

  Living with mom and dad

  Working, hoping for the best

  We know the economy is bad

  But seeing young professionals

  Living like high school is sad

  Asking mommy to

  Borrow money really

  Isn’t so funny when

  You’re almost thirty

  Too many of those in Gen X

  Have ended up regressed

  Socially and economically

  And it makes me wonder what’s next

  November 2, 2003