Eight Poems For Your Mid-Week
Mango Sticky Rice
I am honored but no I insist I say
to my thai friend’s manager at the thai restaurant
as she says she will comp my dinner
I appreciate the thought but I have a company card
let me give you my company’s money
it’s not mine
your restaurant should have it
let’s corporate robin hood this dinner
and she insists I take another mango sticky rice
and I am almost too full to function from all the plates she brought me
but she makes me take it to go
and that’s the kind of economy that makes a country great.
Complicated Compliments
it’s nice to hear she thought
but weird coming from you
someone your age
I’m old enough to be your daughter
keep those thoughts on the inside.
Give Me Another
you want a sip of vodka tonic? she asked
and handed me a glass
and I took the sip and it was only vodka
and she smiled.
Earning It
earning the hate of fascists never goes out of style
so I write books mocking them
so that when they take over and send me to the camps
I’ll have fully satisfactorily earned their existentially impotent rage.
A Genealogical Hang
I think about my grandfather
and his grandfather
and all my ancestors over the centuries
and wonder how good they were at partying
and diffusing conflict out and about
and keeping calm in emergencies
and turning heads of pretty girls and boys at the bar
or the tribal dance around the fire cooking mammoth meat
were they cool
would I enjoy their company on an evening alcoholic binge?
The Evangelical
she had her cross necklace dangling in her cleavage
proselytizing for the lord
where the heathens will really notice
inviting them to peer into the lord’s gracious love.
Oops
jamming in the basement with friends of friends
it slowly dawned on him
following several questionable phrases and uncomfortable jokes
he had unintentionally invited over fascists
to his impromptu band jam tryout.
A Toast To The Lame
she asks me all of a sudden if I want to drink a shot of tequila with her
not offering anastasia who is also there
and I say of course sure
and she asks the bartender
can I have the cheapest vodka shot you have
and that’s somewhat an insult to my personal liquor gods
but she’s a monotheist and smug about it
so she gets the shot and asks for a second glass
and gives me half her one shot of the cheapest vodka
and cheers with me
and she takes the half shot and chokes on it
and it burns her throat and a little in her nose
and she chases it immediately with her diet soda
and I wonder if she was actually trying to impress me with all this.
Enjoy my comedy? Buy me a coffee!
Follow me on Twitter, Threads, Bluesky, or Spoutible to interrupt your daily doomscrolling with Dada news, and follow me here on Substack!
Also check out my book “Satire In The Trump Years: The Best Of The Halfway Post,” available on Barnes & Noble and Amazon.
Check out my poetry book Cabaret No Stare, available in print and on Kindle.