San Diego’s nickel lady

the sun warms people better in San Diego

I’m unwinding in a park on the corner of
F Street and 1st Avenue
the grass below me thrives with comfort
the pages in this Mesler novel are illuminating,
- especially his “dialogue”

I’m calm and at ease

then the scratchy feet come tiptoeing toward me,
- dragging torn jeans with’em
this lady looks defeated
her broken amble reflects a lack of strength,
- both mentally and physically
with’a copy of The Learning Annex under arm
she sits drunkenly on the warm sidewalk,
- placing The Learning Annex neatly on’er lap
she reads aloud a paragraph about
how to sell your house in
the San Diego market

her eyes are inflamed
her back’s twisted forward
and her arms continuously wobble
she digs erratically in her pockets and
spills
handfuls of change onto the sidewalk

with busted attempts she begins placing the
nickels
into tall piles,
- smiling her dead smile
then she pulls out a small pair of binoculars
from her back pocket,
- staring at me hiding carefully behind
Mesler’s
Talk: A Novel In Dialogue

I don’t move
I hold my breath
I think happy thoughts

‘Do you have any change? Any nickels?’

I don’t move
I hold my breath
I think happy thoughts

‘I see you.’

I don’t move
I hold my breath
I think happy thoughts

‘Me?’

‘Any change?’

‘No. Sorry. But I appreciate you asking.’

‘You “appreciate” me asking? Ar’ya serious?’

I don’t move
I hold my breath
I think happy thoughts

‘I don’t have any money, but I’ll write you a poem.’

The nickel lady of San Diego continues to stare
at me through the binoculars
and submits:

‘That doesn’t help me.’

- Tony R. Rodriguez

popcorn girls

Popcorn girls mock
[Me]
when we lock sight on the sidewalk tourists
electrify with cameras
If I could see their insides
[first]
opposed to their sparkly twists and candied voices
I’d be able to look away
—Yes—
I’m irritable
—Proven—
I’m lonely
—Wretched—
I pass popcorn girls on sidewalks that are named after Saints
And I call them “girls”
[But]
they’re all very legal and just wishing they were STILL young
I’m shaking this
eye
of
mine

[I think] we both know that you popcorn girls enjoy the attention

—and that’s pretty sad that [you need the attention].

- Tony R. Rodriguez

a poem to the terrorist of email prosody

keep deleting my beats—

you crooked leech
you Faithless cyber-nut
you beaten pedophile of poetic thoughts
you pungent troll who hides
behind computer keys you’ll never master
because
you’re too scared to write about life
because
you haven’t lived it

perhaps you should have
taken notes,
taken advice
from a madman belonging to a generation of
Faithless writers
who have more to say than you

so keep clicking away on your dejected mouse
you coward
while we plug away madness too alive to fade.

address: brokeassstory@yahoo.com
password: “brokeass”
gifted creator: Tsubota

- Tony R. Rodriguez