Sunday, February 28, 2010

maria

Maria always sat next to me

smiling and giggling

hiding her head in my shoulder

all the while exchanging sidelong glances

with the Kappa Sig down the bar

She accepted my invitation

and my ride

she drank my beer

and my shots

all the while ignoring my company

We left her house at the same time

rode in the same car

went to the same bar

but lived miles apart

never coming home together

Every week the same date

and the same disappointment

following her bread crumbs

to a bar tab for two

and an empty bed

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

burned out city

The grain silos

stand above the skyline,

keeping watch

for returning prosperity,

guards from a time

when this was the

Queen City

Thursday, February 18, 2010

modern queen mab

deep explosions rumble in my frontal lobe

bringing bursts of blues and off-whites to a

place behind my optic nerve

like far off artillery fire,

a swirl of every face i’ve ever known

cascades a righteous sleep to my eyes

and i awake sagacious

comfortable with the face of the universe

Monday, February 15, 2010

homeless question

asked of me outside a bar

‘hey man, can you spare?’

‘the missions here are $7/night’

sure I can spare

5 in his hand

and his foot in the door

before my bills are in his pocket

when I realize missions are free

and beers are 3.50 a piece

Friday, February 12, 2010

Twitter!

Today is your lucky day! You can now follow me, Stewart Grant, and Poetry, Punx, and Prose on twitter at poetrypunxprose@twitter.com.

Monday, February 8, 2010

city lights

charlie chaplin san fran misnomer,

metro chic one floor up

detracts not at all from

basement bar vibe,

smoke curls the stacks

of plastic sound

around aural knowledge,

thomas wolfe hand me down

wrapped black flag

carried by ghosts of

hexagon accelerated junkie hipsters,

bohemian bhagavan asks no supplication

Friday, February 5, 2010

all the sad poems

Why are all the sad poems about women

is it just more tragic for them to be in a bad way

or do men keep their sad stories to themselves,

bottled up and hidden away

I feel bad for Brandi and Connie and Ellie

I really do

but what about Timmy and Tommy and Dan

Tom’s wife Bonnie got pregnant a few months ago

and Tom is just so excited

he rushed out and bought arm loads of toys

dolls and army men, just to be safe

and the whole time we was out

running from store to store

Bonnie kept trying to think of a way to tell him

the baby isn’t his

And Timmy, poor old Timmy

we go way back he and I

all the way to Orange Run Elementary

playing on the monkey bars and big blue slides

but now Timmy is five years a drunk and

rehabed twice

but it never really took

he stays sober a while

then something happens,

loses his job, fights with his parents

and it’s right back to the bottle

we talk about it sometimes

when we’re sitting around bullshitting,

throwing back beers,

Larry and Brain and Memphis and I,

the old gang, and we talk about

how we don’t think Timmy has too many

relapses left in him

Finally Dan

we were never really close Dan and I,

more of a friend of a friend thing but

we talked a little, played sports together in high school

Dan came from a proud military family

fathers and grandfathers back to the civil war

serving their country

Dan couldn’t wait to be the next in line

and when his chance came a few months out of college

only a few days out of basic

he was ready, chest full of pride and glory

he led his men into battle

20 men, most younger than him,

on October 3, 2006 outside of Kandahar,

when the mortars and RPG’s died down

they found most of him crouched behind a boulder

and dragged it back to the city,

he still talks pretty well,

if you catch him on a good day

and when you look in his father’s face

and see that little shine of something behind his eyes

its hard to tell if it’s pride in his son

or disappointment that he’ll be the last in the great line

I’m not sure if these stories are any more or less tragic

than any others

but I just felt they deserved a telling

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

MediaVirus Monday

Addicted audience, give us your ear! Welcome to MediaVirus Monday and with it, the February Issue #7. This month features the most fictionMediaVirus has ever included in a single issue. Not to be outdone, the poetry page presents a pair of Washington D.C poets. This month's publication also offers three mixed media art mediums, as well as selections from Stewart and Lawrence's libraries, including previously unpublished material. So sit back, relax, and soak in the creative juices gushing from Issue #7.

Monday, February 1, 2010

poem for a jazz song

Well shit,

Thelonious is telling me his shit

is gods instrument

and the sax is the

devil’s work

someone get me straight

cause jazz is too difficult

and I’m done with that poetry

too well done

and played out

and performed in

ensembles

and in front of

art gallery mics

i’m gonna write nice poetry

from the (sober) heart

for the (straight) mind

but the truth is

I’m always drunk and

my sister-in-law is queer

so I guess this

is for someone else