Posts Tagged ‘Tom Hatch’

Tom Hatch

Posted: November 10, 2017 in Poetry, Uncategorized
Tags: ,

I gave up on women

 

free-shipping-street-art-banksy-decor-banksy-sexy-girl-with-teddy-bear-wall-stickerMarried a couch she
Changed her name to Sofia
I read to her I know she listened
Very still I jacked off she did not say hardly a
Word but only “oh my” holding me in her cocoon
We watched TV any show was mine
To watch then she
Told me she was a sofa bed
Then the fun really began
We walked the avenues
With the help of a moving van
We ate at outdoor cafes lounging
Together at everyone’s envied sight
She became very expensive too
To walk down the street in the moving van
and all I have to tell you I love
Her in my study ever now
And then being the best as a bed
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A Higher Being and Shakespeare 

 

 

Standing on the train platform

This morning all the regulars are here

The train pulls into the station we all

Climb aboard some shuffle some

Scramble to the seats

Making several more stops

That do the same ending thing

At Grand Central a fastening together takes place

Exiting the train

connecting to the places we go

We are the synapse of a

Higher being’s function and memory

A bad moment I suspect

Trying not to be withdrawn into

A black hole I can only imagine and

I am doing this at best for a couple of more years

Do not trust me with your light years

Unless you give me a piece of your time

And let me know more

About Shakespeare. What did you

Do with him anyway after all?

And all those X rated sonnets

He kept in his closet

And

Where are my Marlboros

And champagne that

I kept in the fridge?

Just let me know

I may stay on a few more

Than a couple of years

And help you get out of that black hole

 


 

Aimless for Beauty and Love

5:30 AM the sky and air was dull red out the window
I was foolish to leave my room
Waited tapping for car headlights to pass
Aimlessly I followed across the road
There was red and yellow aimless
Causing silhouetted dark branches
Through the trees my jacket less
Torso saw that beauty was cold
Pinching my fingers took some pictures
Of horizontal pink and yellow clouds
Above while you slept back at home
Putting these pictures in a dream for you
When you wake you saw what I saw
Adding a song some tea
Shared toothpaste foaming on each others
Faces down to the sunrise I spread
Aimlessly you have perfect pitch
As I always recall how you sing on
The microphone when I hum

 

 

Germilenna

The phobia the tiniest
Reduced from sweat and red
Our foreseen passion
With your hair in a ponytail
Let it fall our bodies moist
Together’s moisture frozen soon forever
The days fall away
Like your hair
we become the
Germs of our love
Microscopic in a petri dish
Growing into
Something scientific that
Laboratories will
Study with ah
All over the world
on the cover
Of the dish “Germilenna
A virus dangerous to mankind
Keep frozen under lock and key”
Germilenna will become the
New ecstasy by the Power of Ten both
Microscopic and telescopic
Best snorted at night
In The Library A Lot
She is having an affair in
The library bathroom
With Martyrs, geniuses
And autobiographers
And audio book readers
Expecting me to believe her
“I am writing a biography
Of you the life of the damned”
She said

The Best Way to Treat a Husband as an Ex

Tell him he is stupid, an asshole,

mother fucker.

Then he wants to get her

to calm down.

You never have sex with me anymore

she said.

So he goes to his side of the bed

and she calls 911.

Then he goes to a messily room

upstairs five minutes later

the cops come in flashlights

in his eyes and makes him

sit in his underwear next to the bed.

Making sure he does not

Have a loaded gun

The women cop loved this

and gave him a really good blow job

with the flashlights light

raking across the carpet floor

and some reflecting off

her shiny copper badge.

Then she gave her phone number

to his wife. Do this again I’ll be right here.


Pickup Sticks (one night stand)

 

Hold them in a column in your hand let them drop

Pick them up one by one without

Touching or moving another stick

The players agree in advance

On how many points are required

To win the game

I suggested a million Points

But you did not think it would

Last that long

Ok half a million

Then you did not think it would

Last that long

Ok two hundred thousand points

Not that long either?

 

Hold them in a column

Stroking up and down on the fricking

Sticks there are 30 of them I hate asking you

Is this gratuitous?

Feels like black, yellow, blue, green

Then red spilling randomly

Ok 100,000 points it is your call

Still too long my over achieving

Ambition has become real at 20 points

Or 20 minutes

let the Sticks fall

 

 

Iris my Blue 

 

The random heights the irises grow

Dodging the knife spike green leaves

Jutting up with danger

You cannot tell the unemployed

From the artist I just read

Bukowski said in Vacancy

The wilted blossoms

are the empty hotel rooms

White to blue

Copper sulfate blue

 

Or add aluminum sulfate

That is blue is my blue

Yves Klein blue

International Blue

Santa Monica blue ocean

A place to be born later

as an artist and unemployed hitch hiking

In Topanga Canyon picked

Up by the Canned Heat Milk truck

Without a girlfriend tis/’twas

That kind of blue

Deep in the throat

Of Iris in blue jeans all the way with sleek stem

Surrounded by knife blades

Slim midnight unfriendly blue

 

 


A Young Bottle of Wine

 

The problems are as long as my arms

Because that is what I want to grab you

With my hands attached there

My legs are a problem too

Because they have met my feet attached

To them running to you

In a vanishing one

Point perspective that

Seems to have switched to two

Point perspective

Now my finger tips

Become trip wires

Tripping my feet taking

Me to a sign post white on

Red ALTO you are

Too young for me anyway

You need to breathe for a while

Not sigh! And let me catch

My breath