me

twat

me

here i sit
pencil behind my ear
ready for marking up poetry
or tapping against my forehead

here i sit
toothpick in mouth
belly full of soup and grilled cheese
a hint of a smile on my face

here i sit
beer breathed
and glossy eyed from pain pills
toes pointing the wrong way

here i sit
laptop in my lap
preparing a poem while
cancer forms in my testicles

there you sit
smug faced or smiling
face pressed into this book
thinking i’m crazy..

..and loving it

-Lewis Applequist (Fall 2009)

lady in a yellow shirt with a single beer

you walked past me today
and at first I was thinking
‘damn, she’s pretty hot’ but
as you got
closer
i could see the depth of your life in the lines on your face
even though you stared at the ground as you
walked back towards your
motel
single brown bagged 16oz beer in hand

i just want you to know that I understand
where you are coming from and
where you are heading
i’ve seen it so many
times
years of partying under your belt
you have surely gotten that look from
too much living and too little
life
“fuck it Lady”, I write, beer in hand

we are all, mostly all, working to
make some other men rich
we have unclear futures and
crystal clear
dreams
because we sweat, because we toil, we party
and we put off monday as long as we can
come 11:59 sunday night we are still
drinking
“fuck you world” we say to the last sip

fuck you all

-Lewis Applequist (Summer 2009)

Things

Here are some things I like:

Hearing W.S. Burroughs queer voice
Smelling the occasional weird Sugar Smack smell of my piss
Seeing that I have two beers left not one
Feeling that itch that comes from that stuff
Tasting sweat on the neck of a lover

Here are some things I do not like:

Hearing Ginsberg doing the Om sound
Smelling someone’s nasty ass discharge
Seeing that I have no beers left.. on Sunday
Feeling that pain that comes from not having that stuff
Tasting your best friends cologne on your lover’s neck

There are plenty more things
These just came to mind
Demanding to be written
Even if they are
Strange

-Lewis Applequist 2009

haiku challenge answered

Hey, this is a bunch of Haikus..

October 1979

“God, he’s dead, he’s dead!”
I could hear my Aunt screaming
the day my Dad died.

A red Volkswagen
filled with drunks for the Oz trip
never made it home

This year marks thirty
thirty long years gone away
he was twenty-six

Spooky – Halloween
on October thirty-first
his birthday no more

I was barely six
but the shit had started up
and hasn’t slowed yet

Death is always here
mocking, laughing, eternal
our life so finite

-Lewis Applequist 2009

confessions of a cripple

screw this I'm broken bones

lying here with broken
toes
ankle
spirit
i remember a time when I longed to be wheelchair bound
insanity now

i thought of all the time I could
write
read
live
without having to work for anyone
only myself

but here I sit today
three
long
weeks
and all I have banged out is this four stanza piece
of self-loathing

i can hear other bikers roaring by outside my window
rumbling
freedom
givers
the machine which gave me such rapturous joy and agonizing pain
will return

-Lewis Applequist

to my friends who have gone before me

to my friends
who have gone
before me
i hope you are
there
waiting for me

even if it is just
in a conscious,
bodiless form
wait for me
i am on my
way

if it is only
blackness and
we only have our
voices
that will surely
be enough

enough to justify
this life
enough to justify
the suffering
enough to justify
having to wait

to be able to
hear your voices again
and laugh and cry
and remember the
time we had together
in THIS life

that would be enough
of an afterlife
for me
no gold streets needed
no pearly gates required
just us together

but if you happen to learn
that we move on
again
from where you are now
please,
wait for me.

-Lewis Applequist

WRITE DAMN YOU

Halloween 2008, no costume, bearded, unaware and surprised

I keep telling myself that
to be a writer requires that I
actually spend time writing
and not thinking about it.

But I will not put finger to
keyboard or pen to paper
just to get a word count
for some content hog.

Fuck that
I will not make a job
out of my last remaining
passion.

People are depending
on me working this shit job,
but it drains the life out of me,
drives me to drink.. and more.

Then you look at me in
the mirror and wonder why
I look like shit, feel like shit
and sound like shit. (I am shit)

The fact of the matter
is that I AM A WRITER.. a failing
writer who has no ambitions,
not even to write.

Someone once said I was too young
to write.. haven’t lived enough to know
love and loss, death and heartache..
I wish I could use that excuse.. I do.

When I am not writing, I live and see and know
the story keeps going on, I watch it unfold
before my eyes, hear the narrator as
he describes the scene for the readers.

Then he leans in closer,
reeking of alcohol and with
drug crazed eyes he says,
“Stop staring at yourself in the fucking mirror and WRITE DAMN YOU!”

-Lewis Applequist 2008

apartments

I miss my apartments
It’s as close as I can imagine
city life could be for a boy in
Alabama.

Now living in the ‘country’
even with neighbors next door there’s
no socializing.
I am so bored.

I miss all the friends,
the sounds, the sirens,
the shouting and hell
yes, I miss the fights.

Give me Pinecrest or
Colonial Acres any day,
you can keep your lawns
and your fucking fences.

friday nights

in my life, two people
struggle to cope with
loneliness and despair

one suffers alone
in silence
bound to another in misery

the other suffers publicly
a town drunk with a heart of gold
regularly and violently lashing out

one takes any affection
or compliment they can
needing attention, needing love

the other rejects affection
snarls at compliments
needing attention, needing love

on a friday in august
each does something
about their situation

one takes another’s embrace
in awkward silence
needed attention, needed love

the other takes a bottle and
six feet of chain and hangs himself
needed attention, needed love

friday nights in my
life are like badly
written poetry

Days of White

leader, brother, friend..
please, can you tell me
what I need to do
now?

i fear that i may
make a decision that,
(although well intentioned)
may be wrong

i trust in you to not lead
me astray, or deliver me
unto evil..
i voted for you.. in faith

i allow you to deny me my
liberties, my freedoms,
because you tell me..
it’s for my safety.. MY SAFETY!

you will not let my friend
‘fly the friendly skies’
because his name is ‘Rashad’.. but
it’s for OUR SAFETY!

i announce my intentions
to you not by intent but by
my apathy.. because of my lack
of care.. you have full control..

my apathy- lets you tap my phone
my apathy- lets you read my email
my apathy- allows Guantanamo Bay
your only concern- my apathy

my apathy is your only concern
you can entertain me but you don’t educate me
isn’t American Idol on..? Is Brad and Angelina
gonna adopt another child.. turn up the TV..

these are the Days of White..
the Dark Nights will be next

-GS