it’s enough

by Rob Plath

the cat’s napping 

in an empty

brown grocery sack 

& i’m half 

in the goddam bag 

so to speak 

sitting in my chair 

my amber glass beside 

the busted buddha statue 

on the crooked little 

thrift store table 

& it’s enough to just look

at the pub lights 

shining on rainy pavement 

across the way 

& listen to car tires 

turning on wet streets 

slow peeling sounds 

like peace hatching 

out of its shell

crowbars & middle fingers

by Rob Plath

the morning after

the poetry reading

i walked out

hungover

in the august sun

stumbling thru the crowd

at an intersection

i accidentally kicked

over a homeless woman’s

change cup

i had nothing on me to give

i said sorry

it’s okay she said

then she told me that

my zipper was down

i looked down & she was right

so i zipped up & kept walking

down the noisy avenue

then two guys sitting against

a brick wall

said, fuck you, motherfucker

& i glared at them

then one said, it’s on yr shirt

& i looked down

& it did say that

w/a big middle finger

in the center

& i laughed

& they laughed

& i kept walking

the sun growing hotter

its long arms

like bright crowbars

against my skull

& what was left of my soul