1/19/2016 1 Comment 3 Poems By Chris D'ErricoAquarian Hustle Consider going to the movies. Establish a safe environment. Use the present moment. Simply do some finger-painting. Get some extra zzz’s. You are the party. Come to A long overdue understanding. You might be more tired and cranky. Enjoy being Part of a crowd. Follow through. Share a new interest. Make it easy. You won’t be Able to socialize the whole day away. Enjoy the one you’re with. Ask yourself what You’re trying to avoid. And why. Order in. Visit with a loved one. Be expressive. Go to a favorite place. Invite friends over for a spontaneous get-together. Someone You inspire listens carefully. Catch a ballgame or a concert. Have some important Information. Decide to go along with the program. Make it your treat. In the limelight Tonight. Offer to help. Make plans in the near future. Give your undivided attention. Make a point. Without triggering others. You would like to change. This. Start acting Like a kid again. Lie low for a few days. You might not feel. As if. You have a choice. The Truth Shirt Get yourself a plain white t-shirt and a fat, red, permanent magic marker. Write TRUTH with the marker on the front of the t-shirt. Write it big, sloppy, chemical letters. Don’t wear it out just yet. Invite some friends over (if it’s true you’ve got some friends), the kind of friends you’d call if you need help moving furniture or a ride to or from the airport. Break into groups and discuss… Whoever sells it best—their info as knowledge, their knowledge as truth--wins that t-shirt, that special prize! Advise the winner. “Wear that shirt all week without washing it.” Go out in public immediately. Wear it weeks, months, whenever, why not. Never wash it, don’t bother. If you desire more white, or the gore of red has faded, remember: bleach won’t hurt, but the fibers might fray. Believe it. In fact, leave it to the losers to launder that shirt. Wash the hell out of its red “permanent” letters. That’s your prerogative, never mind the protest. Make it affirmative. You don’t ever have to do your own laundry anymore, at least not with that stinking shirt. I Am Not Socrates Apparently Socrates was shockingly ugly Supposedly he had questionable hygiene I wash up nice and good Socrates was a sharp wit who liked to hang out With the local shopkeepers His work was talking to everyone I like to go to the mall on weekends Socrates would walk up to folks Ask them deep questions about life I don’t care for small talk, either My therapist tells me that’s textbook ADHD Socrates wanted to find out the truth I sometimes make trouble for the hell of it A free spirit, Socrates didn’t wear shoes He enjoyed going barefoot I have a closet full of footwear Me, I like the feel and support Of comfortable soles under my feet About the author: Chris D'Errico is a poet and musician. His writing has appeared in such eclectic publications as Misfitmagazine, Otoliths, CounterPunch, and Blue Collar Review. His books include: "The Meat Game" (Thunder Sandwich), "Debris Of Hearts" (OffCenter Press), "Vegas Implosions & Exterminator Chronicles” (Virgogray Press) and "Ministry of Kybosh" (Virgogray Press). Among other vocational adventures, he has worked as a short order cook, a doorman, a neon sign-maker's helper, and an exterminator. Born in Worcester, Massachusetts, D'Errico lives in Las Vegas, Nevada. For more visit www.clderrico.com.
1 Comment
Chippy Bepp AKA The Bepp Chipster
8/8/2021 05:00:39 am
Greatest poems ever written!!!!!!!… Anyone who disagrees is Hitler.
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