Uglytown -A Poem

January 20, 2012

 

Ugly people making

An Ugly neighborhood

Uglytown

Someone tapped y head walking the neighborhood

He made an uglier face than

He already had and ran ahead of me.

I was scared for my life, wife and money

 

We were together

My new wife and

My Best friend

Shopping on the border of

My ugly town

Uglytown

With ugly people

 

I spot Marie

Walking with a younger

Handsome me

She waves to me

From outside the store

 

I tell my girl who knows her

And we go outside while

Marie is inside another store

On the border of

Ugly town

Uglytown

 

We meet up with Marie who is with 2 older

Heavy men, one older I find out

One younger version of the older

Looking inbred and dirty

Assuming one of them is Marie’s boyfriend

 

We made a wrong turn and almost ended up

In ugly town, my town, my home.

Uglytown

 

We were at a restaurant of some sort in a mall

A mall with a view of an ugly town, my ugly town

Uglytown and

It’s ugly people

It was me, myself, my girlfriend with no name,

My best friend with no name, Marie, the guy

I thought was her new boyfriend and

 

What or who looked like her boyfriend’s father

It occurred to me that the older guy whose scraggly hair and beard kept growing and getting grayer might be her boyfriend

 

The film crew was set up and a new arrival besides the crew said

“Action”

The show officially started as we suddenly found things to talk about as if I knew my lines for a film or TV show I had no idea I was part of. I looked at my girlfriend and she stayed in character

Asking what the inbred dirty redneck friends of Marie do for a living.

 

I knew my friend and girlfriend were waiting for an answer hoping

The answer was something I could do and get me in a real job

The younger guy who was touching Marie said

They started a business installing lights or something similar.

I was going to ask him more and out table got distracted

By a fight breaking our down below in the food court

 

Children fighting children

Ugly children fighting

Pretty children and

In between children fighting

Pretty children fighting ugly children

In an ugly town, my Uglytown

Uglytown

The war has begun

I woke up

 

I went outside and lit a cigarette

I heard gunshots

I saw police lights in the distance of the ugly town

My ugly town

My ugly home

Uglytown

 

I heard the voice on a megaphone

Telling someone to drop the gun

I finished my cigarette

Business as usual on a Thursday night

Back to my

Safe little room

Escaped in a book

 

Oh ugly town, oh Uglytown

I’ll miss you one day

Uglytown

 

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I want to be Different so I can Fit in with the Different People

December 20, 2010

Hipsters, scenesters I don’t wanna be-sters. At one time I thought I wanted to be one. I always loved the word “hip” but I found out that there is a “crowd” for everything including the “hip”. Ever day, every month and ever year I realize more and more that I am a misfit, an outsider or a freak as I was called in High School.

 

Not that I ever tried to fit into a group but found myself hanging with different “in crowds” through the years and I always come to the same conclusion. I don’t fit. I won’t fit. Now I realize that I don’t want to fit. I don’t really care. I have enough trouble fitting in my own skin at times.

 

The other day I went to Fishtown in Philadelphia to do a book reading and signing of my novel at cool book store called Germ Books. They specialize in UFO, conspiracy theories and occult literature. I might have called it hip at one point. I was semi-early and the owner wasn’t there yet so I went to the corner to a coffee shop. I walked into the shop and the place reeked of hipsters. They didn’t literally stink but there was an aroma of another kind.  An aroma of pretentiousness. Maybe they all weren’t pretentious but I got that feel.

 

Now over the years I have gown less and less tolerant of “clicks” or “gangs” of people. I get extremely uncomfortable around a group of more than 3 people especially if they are of the same age, race, uniform etc. This is no different.

 

The band King Missile had a song called I Want to be Different. The lyrics were spoken and the singer says “I want to be different. I want to fit in with the different crowd.” I used to feel that way.

 

For a moment I thought “This is where I should be reading my novel.” Then immediately thought the opposite. These people would be too worried about how they appear in front of one another and not paid any attention. I assumed that they probably couldn’t afford my novel anyway. Ha. I can be so judgmental at times. Hey- I’m human.

 

As I waited in the long line watching these people and  feeling uncomfortable it hit me that I was dressed and carried myself like them. I had the look and I wish I didn’t. These feelings combined with my claustrophobia and semi-social anxiety I fled as fast as I could to get out and drink my coffee and have a smoke before the reading.

 

When it was time to read I looked around at the sparse room of a handful of people and thought how much better it was in the bookstore with people that are truly themselves and interested rather than part of a click. I don’t want to be the “in” event or the “hip” person to see. I want to be me, whatever that is at any given time and be around people that are themselves. Outsiders, freaks, misfits.

“I’m Hip” -Maynard G Krebs


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