three poems by John Grochalski

poem for ally (who fell over last friday night)

people will always
be mad at you
or will judge you
because most people
have nothing better
to do
than sit and contemplate
another
while ignoring the mess
of their own lives.
the key is to not let
it get to you
or to temper your
madness.
once you become
what they want
you to be
you might as well
take that whole bottle
of pills
or grab the knife
or put your head
in the oven
because you’re done,
cooked,
and ultimately they’ll
be on toward trying
to change someone else
before you’re even
cold and pale
or missed.

fashion critic

a couple of kids
are picking on one who
wears the same sweater
every day.
to make him feel better
i tell him he looks
distinguished.
in turn, he looks at me
like i should go to hell.
i probably should.
and when they all
walk away
i cross fashion critic
off the list of things
i’m never
going to be.

on seeing someone i know (sort of)

people aren’t so bad
that is to say, i wouldn’t mind
your conversation today
or anybody’s.
maybe it is the rain.
it smells not like spring rain
but a summer shower.
and i am sick of the winter.
i want to shed this morose
sensibility.
it has been so long
it has been like a death.
and there you are
with possible conversation.
i would wave
but you are just so far away from me,
i fear that my friendliness could
be taken the wrong way

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