Working Author » Poetry

Server Pantoum

René S. Garcia, Jr. — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 19:28:19 +0000

I schlep food to the masses.
They never stop coming;
stuffing and shoveling food
into their faces.

They never stop condescending.
I see the arrogance when I look
at their faces
to take their orders.

I see mimicked disrespect when I look
at their children who think I live
to take their orders.
The men, the women,

and their children all think that
they have the power because
the men, the women, the parents
control the tip.

Ultimately, the power belongs to me,
truth be told.
I control the safety of their food
From the kitchen to their table.

Truth be told
it’s a long way
from the kitchen to the table
and food sabotage is easy and discreet.

Reciprocity is integral to respect
so take care of your server.

Master of One

René S. Garcia, Jr. — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 19:24:43 +0000

I often wonder how my life would be
had I followed one of the other paths
now ever so very distant behind me.
At one time I was a fine actor.
I drew convincing sketches of people.
I ran the mile in under five minutes.

Then I decided that I would never
achieve acclaim as an Asian actor,
that my art would never sell for enough,
being limited to shades of bland grey,
as for athletics I picked up smoking.
So now I choose to write: a medium
where it doesn’t matter what I look like
and everyone uses identical tools
and smoke can augment creativity.

But whenever I might happen upon
an actor, an artist, or an athlete,
I can’t help but see shadows of a life
I chose not to live.

Doubt begins to rise.

And I’m compelled to write my feelings down.

Imitations of Pound’s In a Station at the Metro

René S. Garcia, Jr. — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 19:23:02 +0000

Partially Cloudy Night Sky
The twinkling of the random lights;
White pebbles, shifting in a dark stream.

***

Wound
Dark blood dripping from my wrist;
Lemmings falling purposefully to their doom.

***

Dark Dish
The wayward puffs of rice surround the light broth;
A bright halo around the moon.

Candy Girl

René S. Garcia, Jr. — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 19:21:20 +0000

She sees the world with candy eyes,

gleaming with sugary shine.

She bites heads off chocolate children

sucking on licorice vines.

She licks the lollipop stop signs

that never get soggy or melt away

She has to sample all she can,

before the lemon drop sun sets that day

And when she tries to sleep at night,
She can’t.

Alarm Clock Mumble Jumble

René S. Garcia, Jr. — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 19:15:13 +0000

For god’s sake,
don’t wake me
for work!
Let me shirk
my duties today.
I say, I’m tired
of laboring
and slavoring
for that sloth
I call a boss.
Let him stall
his own calls
and top off
his own coffee
and fetch promptly
his own laundry.
What gall!
No more
I’m sure and never
again pick up a pen
and swallow dictation.
I’ll do as I please:
pay the rent with Z’s
and bask
in my lazy
exaltation.