K from noon to midnight and Untitled

by  Sander Scott Riley


K from noon to midnight

Monday
you can search for me
but I will not be there
not found in chiseled muscles
open mouths
unseen below the oblique
in between the folds of a flower
identity lost in thrust
rising above sweaty shoulder blades
into the air ducts
hear others in others
need

Tuesday
called me little and done
there will be another into the broiler
slow spin to desecration
slapping and exchanging
how did you know that I was a smoker?
I thought I chewed that gum pretty hard
yes, I can do that
but I have never really done it like that
always a nervous twitch
something to not speak of again
boring

Wednesday
all 28 of them know
morning is just a ruse
who forgets a pen and notebook?
spin a six and pass two pay days
career path back then starts now
soon I will be the one that looks at me
the clarity is written on the board
who will not be back
or is just wasting everyone’s time
paid in creased bills from copy paper
folded

Thursday
they called him The Jab
never saw so many veins on display
liftoff and then crashing down
regular on this day
apologizing for each end
still cannot figure out the shaking
siren here to make it all better
regret the tattoos that did not make sense
laugh at jokes and nod with a smile
watch him leave and not look back
stuck

Friday
I don’t want to be a machine
nine in this shift
all with problems that are easy
but so lost in being honest
balcony seems a world apart
let me show you my two girls
yes, I know I need to be careful
thanks for being so considerate
and not letting my hair get messy
drive so fast when you need to get away
real

Saturday
I am no longer an I
I am no longer an I 
I am no longer an I 
I am no longer an I 
I am no longer an I 
I am no longer an I 
I am no longer an I 
I am no longer an I 
I am no longer am I
I am no longer am I
I am no longer am I


Sunday
discarded
called so many names
none of which are my own
left behind
only remembered for a day or two
still here, all you nameless ones
walk in and smile
then leave me behind
I understand, I do not pity you
search for me and you will find
Money   


Untitled

we sit in nonchalance, our skin falls off calcium deficient bones
cigarette sticks of melancholy consumed over and over again
the twenties screamed, the thirties whimpered
mattresses held so many fluids, longings, memories, regrets
this street was so populated with brand names and swagger
now it just sits there with a name on both ends
no reputation, no half-utterances of what used to be
money moved back up north, mistresses retired and set up tanning bed businesses
they stare from in between the neon letters and credit card stickers
out into empty spaces as their illegitimate children grind down parking curbs
flick off passerby and curse using tongues that are sanded dry
refusing to come inside for a bottled water
not until a larger screen television is put up in the waiting room
cut, release, show, prove
we do not care about the next generation
since we are still trying to hold onto the title