Saturday, June 23, 2018

Mr. Good-Time by. Mike Zone


like a faded second rate candy bar
chock full of nuts
more nutty than sweet
a pile of bland melted sorrow
but he’s having a good time
bouncing gait
on the way to the corner store
sack full of empty tall boys
in the exchange for more
tells me, he’s conservative
believes in hard work
an aggressor against socialism
“I’m a believer in the market.”
Striking workers “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
“Fuck socialism”
Walks around all day
just fine
on disability
living
collecting cans, smoking pot, getting laid
nice place, 1pm corner run
like clockwork
everyday
always a smile on his face
(smile everyone)
talks about capitalism and Jesus
“as soon as I get better, I’ll go to work, get some land…1200 acres unclaimed, put a trailer on it, grow my own food…fuck the government and their welfare whores.”
Pimply faced strawberry blond not half bad, just left his place
multiple kids from multiple fathers
one of each flavor
a genuine rainbow of diversity
“fuck that my kids don’t play here, I drive them across town to the nice park. Found designer jeans, skirts and shirts for them online.”
She’s an up and coming success story
A real networker
Mr. Good-Time’s brother just moved in
Chubby raisin carmel goo-drooper
they always argue
wanted to show me their guns
Goo-drooper “you’d like em’ my shit’s not registered. Fuck the government.”
always walking now with an army of slugs
egg drunk children ready to hatch
following
smile wide everyone!
Mr. Good-Time
His head goes down
His brother’s up
Posture slumps
one smiles and bounces
the other does not
interexchange of hands on strawberry’s ass
all of a sudden slugs are gone
car backfires
Mr. Good-Time
Shot by his brother
candy bar off the shelf.



Mike Zone is the author of Void Beneath the Skin, Fellow Passengers: Pubic Transit Poetry, Meditations & Musings and Better than the Movies: 4 Screenplays. He is the co-writer of the graphic novel series American Anti-hero from Alien Buddha Press. His poetry and stories have been featured in: Beatnik Cowboy, Horror Sleaze Trash, In Between Hangovers, Mad Swirl, Rasputin Poetry, Synchronized Chaos, Triadae Magazine and Your One Phone Call. He scrapes by in Grand Rapids, MI







No comments:

Post a Comment

Black Magic Woman By Alexis Child

I carve a voodoo doll out of wax Hold a lighter to its chest It's hot, hot, hot She's lost her heart Her lovely head And beautiful l...