The Doctor, Part 31

Each day
before I go in the ring
I cry so hard I curl,

then I undo
relying on no one,
a stretch
and then I’m ready to unload
a giant laser cannon of rage,
usually
fully loaded
between 9:30 and 10:30
each day,

I sit on the stoop
a lot these days
breathing slow, green-blue smoke down the sidewalk,
cooling,
easing
down
after retching
up,
after twisting
up,

I catch
the odd look,
the odd sniff
of passersby,
some
living close by,

I sweep
to keep it clean,
to keep
the rats away,

each day
since they opened across the street
at 106
North First Street,
The Journal Gallery –
either
that tall giraffe
Thurston Moore Wannabe
hipster schtoon
that owns the place
who was probably
really good
at selling coke to his friends in college
or one of his
underpaid –
dumps their garbage
on top of our garbage,

on Thursday
a very nice girl
in a very nice dress
dropped
The Journal Gallery’s
bag of garbage
on top of the bags and bags of garbage
in front of our building
and walked
very pretty
back across the street,

I followed her
like a cancer cop
just like the shitters before her
who left their dog shit in front of my apartment in 1993
who I followed
all over Brooklyn
with their three-legged dog’s shit
in a bag I was holding
asking why did you leave your dog’s shit in front of my apartment?

I walked into the gallery
and said,
excuse me,
you’ve been dumping your trash in front of my building
each day
and it isn’t very neighborly,

eyes wide she snatched at
I’m just following orders,

I thought of the Nazis
and said,
it’s not cool,

from the hip she
pushed the button:
does
just a little more garbage
really matter?

I said
hey,
I’m trying to keep the front of our building clean,
I’m fighting cancer
so I’m spending more time
there
and it just isn’t a very neighborly thing to do
which is why it’s probably
illegal
so please
stop,
thanks,
have a good day,

my shoulders walked out the door
before I did,
across the street
in my dark apartment
I smoked hard
to bring them back down
and saw her, her
shoulders
across the street
heaving
up and down
Audrey Hepburn at the end of the movie
and she
saw me,
our eyes locked,
both shamed
through my window
and fled,

oh.
shit. I have to fix
my karma
now,
asap,
I fumbled
for
something beautiful,
not offensive,
not too
sexy,
not too
little,
I fumbled,
I mumbled to my keys

and found her,

sorry,
I am so sorry to level that at you,
I am so sorry,
I didn’t want
to hurt you,
you’re right she said,
she smiled
at my sorries and said I’ve lost a lot of people to cancer,
I said
your penis of a boss
needs a bucket of my wrath,
not you,
take this,

I handed her a penny-cube,
a cube
not too little,
not too
sexy
made of pennies
chromed
shiny silver
with a bouncy nugget inside
so it dings,

I said
the guy that made this
is someone,

I’m not anything,
I’m sorry
I’m just
the ass-hole across the street.

 

The entire The Doctor series can be found here.