After a Brief Hiatus

So I've been really busy lately with trying to write up new stuff, and finalize some old stuff.  Here is a couple of poems that I wrote awhile back, and kind of revised.  A few new ones will be up later.  

Cigarette Smoking Man

I watch the old man smoking his 
cigarette across the street. What 
the hell, I’m almost positive that
he had lung cancer a few months
ago. It definitely takes some real
dedication to survive cancer, then
start smoking again once it’s in 
remission, what a trooper.

But for the past few days, I haven’t
seen him. I decided that he has moved
or is dead, one of the two. It was Sunday 
morning, and I see his newspaper laying in 
his driveway. I wanted to look at the ads, 
do the crossword, and since he was gone, I 
might as well make good use of his paper.

While I’m sitting out on my front porch, 
studying what looks to be an easy crossword,
I see him. The old man coming outside to
smoke his morning smoke and get his 
morning paper…I’m such a dick.

I thought about rolling it all back up and
taking it back to him, but I wasn’t done 
with it, and I really wanted to do the
crossword today.  

I watch as the man walks up and down
his driveway, looks around his lawn, every
spot where the paper could have landed.
He’s done with his cigarette, and slowly
walks to his door, disappointed I’m sure.  
I hope this isn’t the only thing he had to 
look forward to every Sunday. I don’t 
want to be an accomplice to suicide.

I know what I’ll do; I’ll just leave a buck
and a quarter on his doorstep tomorrow. If 
he’s still alive, when he comes out to smoke
his morning cigarette, I’ll be doing the same,
and have the satisfaction of knowing that I
paid him back for my wrong actions. But
if I don’t see him in a few days, looks like
I have my own Sunday paper subscription.

There's No Place Like Home

My phone is ringing. I normally
never answer my phone, just wait
for the machine to pick up. If the
message is pertinent to anything,
I’ll call back. It’s my mother calling,
and I let the machine pick up. She 
says that I haven’t been back home 
in almost 4 years, and the family 
really wants to see me.

I know how long it’s been mother,
you don’t have to remind me. I
swear to God, sometimes I think 
she’s on drugs, with all the quirky
shit she says. The other day she
called and asked me what I was 
doing, and what time it was. Why
are you asking me what time it is?
There has to be a clock somewhere
in your vicinity that you can look at.

Its instances like these that make me
not want to come home. I already 
know what is going to happen. I’ll
get there, my mother will want to be
around me constantly, while my father
will just be sitting in his chair, drunk
out of his mind, probably not even 
knowing that I am in the house.

I’ll get away from my house as soon
as possible, and go to the coffee shop
to see all of my old friends. That’s 
okay I guess, but listening to their 
stories of success will annoy me, and
I’ll walk out without them even knowing.

I’ll go to the bar to get away from them,
and see a couple friends from high school
that haven’t changed at all. I’ll see my 
ex at the end of the bar, and when she notices
me, she’ll hang all over her boyfriend just
to try and make me jealous. I don’t give a
shit. I was over her a long time ago.

Then at the end of the night, I’ll come
home, and my mother will be waiting up
for me. She’ll tell me that she was worried
about me, and when I’m at home she can’t
sleep until I get back in for the night. I’m
24, and she still tries to treat me like I’m 16.

I’ll get up in the morning, as early as I can,
and pack up my stuff. My mother will ask
me why I’m already leaving, and I’ll say that
I have stuff that needs to be done before next
week and I have to get started on it. I’ll tell 
her that I’ll be back in a few weeks, but we 
both know that’s a lie. I’ll kiss her goodbye,
attempt to wake up my dad and tell him
I’ll see him later, then walk out, throw my
stuff in the backseat, get in, start my car,
light a cigarette, and drive away.

I call my mother back after a couple hours.
I tell her I have a ton of stuff to do, and I
can’t make it this time, but I’ll try and come
up in a few weeks. She says she understands,
and hopes that I’m doing well. I tell her I love
her, and she tells me the same, and I hang up.

Enjoy,

Sean