MOAN by Andrew Worthington

November 6, 2011 at 4:57 pm | Posted in poem | 1 Comment

MOAN

I just called my bank
It is ten past eleven
on the dot
I freaked out because I thought my account was about to overdraft
My landlady hasn’t cashed my rent check yet and I am well below the amount in my account needed for the check to clear
And its just fucked up

I thought that Obama passed a law making overdraft fees illegal
Maybe he did
Maybe I won’t get charged overdraft fees
It is still scary
Overdraft is scary
Or maybe it is just doing its thing
Which is nothing
It is inanimate
And I am giving it agency
And its just fucked up

When I called the bank the lady spoke in an indeterminate Asian voice
I told her my problem
She took my information
She tells me my account overview
I began with a balance of 698 dollars four days before
I spent 89.77 on a U-Haul Cargo Van
I spent 21.77 at Flora De Brooklyn
and I don’t even know what that it is
I spent 13.95 at Taco Bell
I spent 13 dollars even at a movie theatre
I went to see Cowboys and Aliens
It sucked
My landlady cashed a check I wrote her for 340 dollars for half of the month’s rent that I was late on
I spent 33.10 on gas at the Brooklyn Navy Yard
before I returned the U-Haul Van
Those are my debits
The problem is that the 340 dollar check wasn’t on the account
Which is why my calculations were wrong
The bank lady explained this to me
And so I am not about to overdraft
But I am low on money
And its just fucked up

I tried to get overdraft protection a couple times
But I got rejected
I tried to get a credit card more than a couple times
But I have always been rejected
I try to save money
But I spend it
I am wasteful
I don’t buy the cheapest meals possible
I go out to bars too much
I buy cigarettes often
And I buy them in a city where a pack of cigarettes costs as much as a dozen McDonald’s hamburgers
It is sad that my brain is now focusing on cigarettes and McDonald’s
They are what is on my mind
And its just fucked up

I just noticed a couple very small ants on the window sill next to my desk
The window is closed but they are coming in through it I think
And it’s just fucked up

There is a microwave in my closet
I cleaned it the other day when I moved in
before I put it in there
But I know the ants are making their way over there
They are sending transmissions to each other at very high frequencies
And I cannot hear them
But I know they are invading
And it’s just fucked up

I will have to hire an exterminator
The landlady won’t pay
The exterminator will be a fucking asshole
He will charge me more than I owe
And I will give in
Because I am an asshole
And it’s just fucked up

I hear people in the next apartment laughing and having fun
They are playing music
They have nice loud speakers
They are laughing loudly
I go and kick down their door and stab them
And they don’t even notice
And it’s just fucked up

I go out and smoke a cigarette in the window of the building hallway
I am in my sandals and I see four baby rats crawling around in the corner of the stairwell
I curse their mother that abandoned them
I wonder if rats are cared for by their mothers or fathers or both
I wonder what it would be like if there were orphanges for rats
I become bored with my train of thought
I yawn
My own thoughts bore me
And its just fucked up

I wonder if the rats are coming through my wall that is adjacent to the hallway
And that is why the babies are abandoned
Because the mother is going to get the small leftover scraps from my microwave
Even though I cleaned it
She is going to bring back the scraps to the baby rats
Or just gourge on them
Five feet from my bed
Underneath the dresser
And it’s just fucked up

Now I can’t concentrate on anything except for cleaning my room
And I vow never to eat in my room again
Because if I do rats will infest it
And it’s just fucked up

I find myself looking at the Wikipedia page for the character Ari Gold from the TV show Entourage
I stop and think how much of a waste I am
How I have gravitated towards the waste
The piles of trash
Fucking heaps of shit
And I am now part of it
And its just fucked up

There is a fly in my room
Still not clean enough
I cleaned it but it is still there
it is a small fly
like a speck of dust
and I cannot kill it
and I cannot look away
and I can’t do anything
And then I realize that I am just saying that to myself
And it’s just fucked up

I walk out of the apartment and walk down Broadway
90 blocks
And walk into TImes Square
I listen to a heterosexual couple arguing
He will say “Just don’t talk”
She will start to say something
And he will say “I meant both of us”
I feel curious and anxious
I always feel curious and anxious
They are maybe my two defining emotions
But probably not
Because curiousity isn’t really an emotion
is it?
And anyways, I can’t really talk about myself
I can’t really stand speaking abstractly
But its my modus operandi
And it’s just fucked up

There are pigeons all over the sidewalks
I know I don’t need to hate them
But they are in the way
And they aren’t polite about moving
And I do hate them
And its just fucked up

I think about pigeons
I think about rats
Together they are our city scapegoats
I don’t know exactly only from experience
I think about why hamsters and even mice are more popularly loved than rats
I try to think about it for a while
But then I get mad at myself for not thinking more interesting or relevant things
And its just fucked up

And I think about how I think about things too much
I hate it
And I think about how I cannot stop thinking because then I would have to think about it
And its just fucked up

I catch a train to 14th Street with the last money on my metrocard
There is still a buck 40 left on my card but a ride costs 2.25 so I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with the extra buck 40
And its just fucked up

I transfer at 14th Street to the L and ride it to Williamsburg
On the train I hear a group of girls standing next to me
One girl says “He’s been all over twitter lately, have you noticed?”
And another girl says “Yeah, I saw that. I don’t understand it. It doesn’t seem like him. He acts different on twitter.”
The first girl says “That’s what his internet persona is I guess.”
The train rocks as it goes around a curve
And one of the girls bumps into me
And gives me a glare
She bumped into me
Not me into her
I am a rock when I stand on a subway car
I do not sway unless force is applied to me
And yet she is the one giving the glare
And its just fucked up

I get off the train in Williamsburg
And start walking to a bar to meet some friends
I decide I don’t want to go to the bar
I am exhausted
I just spent two hours coming down to Brooklyn and now I am tired
I know I should call one of my friends to say I won’t be able to make
(Even though I already made it)
But I don’t
Because I can’t think of an excuse
And its just fucked up

I sneak through the emergency exit in the train station
As people are getting off the train
I get on the train
There is a crazy old white lady on the train yelling racial slurs
And screaming “Have a nice day” at every stop
And its just fucked up

When I am back in Harlem I walk to a Chinese restaurant
And I forget that I need to say the numbers because they don’t understand what I say
And I order General Tso’s chicken
And I get Chicken Teriyaki
I really am retarded
And its just fucked up

I eat the chicken and leave the vegetables to the side
I am not healthy
And its just fucked uup

I look at Facebook for four hours and twenty three minutes
I am thirsty because I won’t refill my glass of water and the fan is blowing dust on me
I recollect about how I am garbage
Fucking trash
And then I think that I shouldn’t hate myself
Even though I want to
And then I listen to the T.I. song “Whatever You Like”
And I think that it is okay to hate myself
Even though that song says the opposite
And its just fucked up

I just drank a glass of lemonade
I made it with pink powder and water
I added two ice cubes
I made it instantly
Except what is an instant
I could ask for help from my quantam mechanic friends
Except I don’t have any friends who know quantam mechanics
Except I don’t have any friends who like science
And that is why the world is screwed
Its douchebags and spinelss nerds creating the science and technology
But I am being political and jumping to conclusions and grandstanding
And using clichces
And its just fucked up

I brush my teeth
Blood drips from my gums
The bristles on my tooth brush turn dark pink
And its just fucked up

I want to act in a local nonprofit community theatre
Or start a new band and be the lead singer
But I have stage fright
Unless I am drunk
So the theatre stage is out for me
Even though I would find it more intellectually stimulating
And its just fucked up

The sun is rising
I have been doing nothing all night
All I want is a Coke
Or Pepsi
I walk down to the basement of the building and look at the vending machine
When did cans of soda start costing a dollar rather than 50 cents?
I only have three quarters and not the four I need
And its just fucked up

I used to steal quarters from my dad’s change jar
I would steal two every Wednesday before I went to church choir practice
It was a lame rebellion
Simple childish mischievous nonsense
And I kind of want to regret doing it
And i regret regretting
And I regret all my second guessing
And lies
And boring truths
And its just fucked up

I refresh Google
And I refresh it again
and Again
and Again
And my browser crashes
Firefox falls to the ground
GOOGLE WINS
It is like the 1984 Macintosh commercial
Except reverse maybe
And its just fucked up

The sun is rising
I look online to see what the weather will be like this morning
It says it will be cloudy with a chance of rain
And its just fucked up

I receive a text from my old roommate saying a girl fell off our old roof
It was an accident
She survived but she will not be able to walk properly for a long time
And its just fucked

I eat ten carrots
Not the small dinky ones either
The big ones with dirt on them that you have to clean off
And they’re supposed to make me healthy
But I feel like shit
And its just fucked up

And moan
Moan for those rare out-of-body experiences
Moan for being trapped in my body the rest of the time
Moan for being trapped in me steaming bedroom
Moan for the fans
poor machines chugging away
and they don’t even know it
Moan for Paris Hilton
Moan for moaning for Paris Hilton
Moan for watching the Paris Hilton sex tapes too many times
too many times more than you would every want to admit to anyone
Moan for the end of provocative behavior
Moan for the age where provocative behavior is merely to turn the mirror around on ourselves and look at what is provocative
Moan for Bristol Palin
Moan for Bieber

Moan for the end of human rights
Via the establishment of human rights
Moan for moaning

Moan for moaning
Because it is the last refuge of a grunt
A grunt heard around the universe
A nuclear warhead I set off in my room
Capable of destroying the entire planet
And ants on a planet in the next galaxy over
Are like huh
And they grunt
And its just fucked up

I am sorry that I have to do this
This whole blowing up the planet thing
I am speaking to you
My lovely abstraction
Once again
And its just fucked up

I can’t live with out you
You’re not even really real really
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
That I can’t stop talking
And its just fucked up
That I feel bad for intruding
And its just fucked up
That you don’t slap me to death
And its just fucked up
That I can’t stop saying the same thing
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
And its just fucked up
I want to think of one more thing to say
And its just fucked up