HOME | DD

Description
I.
Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you,
happy birthday dear Bruce,
You smell like a monkey,
and you fart like one too.
With apologies to Patty and Mildred Hill

II.
My teenage years were fleeting;
this was especially evident when I
lost my virginity (age 16), in my old
fort, in the woods by the train tracks,
with the 10:14 roaring by. With my post-coital
cigarette, I walked out to the tracks and found two quarters
and a dime flattened on the tracks.

III.
My favorite college is UCLA,
not because I am an alumnus,
but because of the basketball team.
Later in life, I will grab my firstborn's arms
and flail them around to the fight song, and I will
cry when John Wooden retires.

IV.
In the army, I meet people that I never talk to again.
We are involved in Operation Just Cause in Panama,
in which I kill nobody.

V.
I have been married four times.
On the eve of my third, I said this:
Third time's the charm, but this proved to be false
when I see smoke curling from beneath the bathroom door.

VI.
One Thanksgiving meal is the same as the inmates.
Surprisingly, the food tastes the same, there isn't
the cold smell of the jail, or the metal taste you get
when you've run up the stairs.

VII.
I helped kill a man.
It was ten on one, a dogpile, and I'm at the bottom,
my face turning red, the handcuffs digging into my thigh.
My knee is on his chest, and he's gasping for air. As a police officer,
I'm sure I should be yelling something, but I can't.
I'm watching this man sweat and breathe and die,
and then it's over.

VIII.
I am afraid of my son growing up.
As stated before, my teenage years were fleeting.
For this reason, his room is constantly unusable,
and he is forced to sleep in my bed. In my sleep,
I probably imagine he is one of my wives, or maybe
I realize he is my son, and I hug him.

IX.
Lonely men are crouching hidden masturbators.

X.
I am my mother's keeper and I remind her
daily. She is waiting to die, and talks
in her sleep.

XI.
When my son handcuffs himself to the car,
I do not have the key. I threaten to just leave
him there until I can get the key, but the joke
stops when he begins to cry.
With enough soap, he is freed but the next morning
as I drive to work, I hear the handcuffs swinging against
the door and I think about the grandfather clock
that I always forget to wind up.

XII.
For a short time, I am a security guard
at a nursing home. This is boring work,
but my firstborn has fun playing hide and seek
at 1 in the morning.

XIII.
I buy into the Y2K thing, and stock up
on water and food. At 11 PM, I take a shower,
a nice long one, because, I tell myself,
this could be the last good shower ever.
When I get out, I am briefly reminded of sex,
and on the mirror, I write
Happy New Year, and sign my name,
and soon, the steam covers this too.

Description
I.
Happy birthday to you,
happy birthday to you,
happy birthday dear Bruce,
You smell like a monkey,
and you fart like one too.
With apologies to Patty and Mildred Hill

II.
My teenage years were fleeting;
this was especially evident when I
lost my virginity (age 16), in my old
fort, in the woods by the train tracks,
with the 10:14 roaring by. With my post-coital
cigarette, I walked out to the tracks and found two quarters
and a dime flattened on the tracks.

III.
My favorite college is UCLA,
not because I am an alumnus,
but because of the basketball team.
Later in life, I will grab my firstborn's arms
and flail them around to the fight song, and I will
cry when John Wooden retires.

IV.
In the army, I meet people that I never talk to again.
We are involved in Operation Just Cause in Panama,
in which I kill nobody.

V.
I have been married four times.
On the eve of my third, I said this:
Third time's the charm, but this proved to be false
when I see smoke curling from beneath the bathroom door.

VI.
One Thanksgiving meal is the same as the inmates.
Surprisingly, the food tastes the same, there isn't
the cold smell of the jail, or the metal taste you get
when you've run up the stairs.

VII.
I helped kill a man.
It was ten on one, a dogpile, and I'm at the bottom,
my face turning red, the handcuffs digging into my thigh.
My knee is on his chest, and he's gasping for air. As a police officer,
I'm sure I should be yelling something, but I can't.
I'm watching this man sweat and breathe and die,
and then it's over.

VIII.
I am afraid of my son growing up.
As stated before, my teenage years were fleeting.
For this reason, his room is constantly unusable,
and he is forced to sleep in my bed. In my sleep,
I probably imagine he is one of my wives, or maybe
I realize he is my son, and I hug him.

IX.
Lonely men are crouching hidden masturbators.

X.
I am my mother's keeper and I remind her
daily. She is waiting to die, and talks
in her sleep.

XI.
When my son handcuffs himself to the car,
I do not have the key. I threaten to just leave
him there until I can get the key, but the joke
stops when he begins to cry.
With enough soap, he is freed but the next morning
as I drive to work, I hear the handcuffs swinging against
the door and I think about the grandfather clock
that I always forget to wind up.

XII.
For a short time, I am a security guard
at a nursing home. This is boring work,
but my firstborn has fun playing hide and seek
at 1 in the morning.

XIII.
I buy into the Y2K thing, and stock up
on water and food. At 11 PM, I take a shower,
a nice long one, because, I tell myself,
this could be the last good shower ever.
When I get out, I am briefly reminded of sex,
and on the mirror, I write
Happy New Year, and sign my name,
and soon, the steam covers this too.