Excerpt for After The First Shot by Robert Benefiel, available in its entirety at Smashwords

AFTER

THE

FIRST

SHOT


ROBERT

BENEFIEL


Published By Poetastard Press at Smashwords

Copyright 2011© By Robert Benefiel

Cover Design By Robert Benefiel


All rights reserved.


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For Stacey:


Without Your Love

Laughter Would

Sound Like Crying




Table Of Contents


1. ½

2. A Little Praise For The Tellie

3. A Sea Chantey For The Nairobi

4. Don’t Die In My Poem

5. From Many Fucked Up Evenings You’re

Bound To Gather It Yourself

6. Golden Delicious

7. Make New Space

8. Old Windows Across The Street

9. Reunion

10. Someone Said This Would Make A Good Song

11. Surreal

12. The Loud Mouth From Topeka

13. The Noise Off The Surface

14. We’re Semi-Destined

15. Whoever You Were

16. Why Were You Late?

17. Word Poisoning

18. 250 Frozen Pussies Next To The Ice Cream

19. A Building Where People Live At Some Point

20. Again We Go Mad

21. Do Without The View

22. Dumakoff

23. Installation Is Free

24. Jewels

25. The Bee

26. The Mallentine Modeling Agency

27. Took My Vows At 50 Words A Minute

28. Where I Fit Into This I Couldn’t Tell You

29. 2 For 2

30. Another Hoax Pulled On You By The Catholics

31. Cloistered

32. Don't Let The Slogan Fool You

33. Explaining Every Strange Woman I Have Ever Met

34. Final Notice Number 12

35. Finally They Are Worth Something

36. I Want A Scotch And They Want Mars

37. If The Hope Ain’t Killing Us

38. Looking For My Brand

39. Making That Face

40. Save You The Time

41. She’ll Make Even A Great Man Cry Some Day

42. Spare

43. The Doc Said You Got A Pair Of Lungs Like Two Vacuum Bags Full Of B.S.

44. The Guest

45. The Island Shrinks As Time Grows

46. The Old Times Don't Last

47. Therapy

48. Through The Photographic Plate

49. Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood

50. You Should Use These Resources

51. 50 Symbols

52. A Raise

53. Another Crisis Comes And Goes

54. Bad Day To Be A Priest

55. Copyright Papers

56. If In My Brain

57. Picky, Picky, Picky

58. The Symphony Writers




1/2


1/2 a beer and the place is on fire.

1/2 a beer and the fire is supposedly

coming up the stairwell,

devouring the steps

like chocolate.

1/2 a beer and already

the fate of mankind is pointless.

1/2 a beer and the men

are already shoving

the women and children

out of the way.

1/2 a beer and i sit here,

don't move anything

except the beer.

i count the nail holes

in the wall, and i count 14.

1/2 a beer and a woman runs into my place

and says," WE CAN'T GET OUT!

WE'RE GONNA DIE

FROM THE SECOND FLOOR UP!

WE SHOULD JUMP OR SOMETHING!"

i try to sit her down, make her calm,

offer her wine,

but she runs to the window and screams.

i ask her to leave and she does,

still screaming,

but with the wine.

2 minutes later a small,

stocky, mexican fella

comes in and says, "false alarm-

just a couple of smoke bombs."

he has no pants on.

i say, "thank god. i thought you were

going to ask me to hold you."

1/2 a beer and i am still alive

and i've seen enough.

1/2 a beer and the alarm rings

even though the radiator doesn't work.

1/2 a beer and already a poem, a woman,

and death, and life, all

with scarred up legs.

i do not understand why

i was the only one

who stayed calm.

i suppose i have

accepted too much.

1/2 a beer left

and i drink the rest,

waiting for the rest,

which will come

when it comes

no matter what,

though maybe

next time

not as smoke bombs.

maybe next time

it'll just be

a guy without pants.




A Little Praise For The Tellie


tiberius, the roman emperor,

used to fuck everything-


animals,

family,

little boys..


if a little boy

tried to avoid

being sodomized,

tried to run,


he broke their legs

and then fucked them.


tiberius

was the leader of rome

for years,

and they not only

feared him,

but they followed him as well.


makes you glad

there's something on tv,


that there is such a thing as tv,


considering what

we used to do

when the rich

got bored,

and the only thing

turned on

was a maniac

surrounded by

broken legged

boys.




A Sea Chantey For The Nairobi


janitor singing

into his mop

as the lonely doctor

wanders around

in the mountains

between the razor

green branches,

led by a scout

who is lost

on purpose,

because if

he finds the secret

then the secret

is no longer any good,

because all people die,

and if all is sick

then is all cured?


the last sane man

would like to know

if he can come out now.


his brain is

like a turnip

in boiling oil.


his heart is

a silver sliver

in the chest.


love is a gentle pain,

but pain i do not love.


i know

even the end

is endless.


it is impossible

to graduate from here.


it's like begging

from a mirror-


i look

into your

deep,

deep,

eyes

marie,


and sometimes

i'm not sure

who's more

full of shit.




Don’t Die In My Poem


don't die in my poem,

ray charles-


the ladies won't like it.


and send me up

some of that

old fashioned heaven

from your kitchen

lydia.


send me

your clouds

and harps

and halos.


mix it all up

into an orange brown

smoggy soup,

and let me taste it.


let me have a sniff

of those old days,


when

ray charles was still alive,


and so was i,

and nobody was

embarrassed to be

that way.




From Many Fucked Up Evenings You’re Bound To

Gather It Yourself


sometimes all one has

is what they haven't-


a pork barrel

rolling down

a stone ramp

into the water.

a wall that will

not miss you.

an unfinished sentence

bit open.

a subpoena shoved into your ribs.

a life that doesn't

recognize your handwriting.

a long crawl upwards

to a withered flower stem.

a picture that won't hang.

a painting that no longer knows you.

a kind of answer

you can't swallow..


this is

one of those

times

i wish

i were wrong,

but the floor doesn't give.

it holds water

and everything else.


the comedian

has turned on you,


and you stand there

and have what

little there

is to have,


and what isn't

there

is never

there.




Golden Delicious


cutting apples

is just as

easy as

cutting

hearts.


you know that.


you know that because

love poems are bullshit.

love poems are what's

wrong with this country,

because there's all this romance

but nobody's in love

with the right person for

the right reasons,

just the wrong one,


and i've always been

the wrong one

for somebody.


and it's a heart one minute

and an apple the next,

and it no longer matters

because the lights are on their third notice

and i'm hungry like no one else,

and sure i could be in love with you

but how long does that poem ever last,

or that apple,

or that heart?


i push a small knife

through something

round and red.


could be a heart.

could be an apple.


i am, you see,

after it's all over,

still the wrong one

for somebody.




Make New Space


spent the

afternoon

unscrewing

rusty chairs

in the sun.


there was no talk

of great men,

of great works of art.


i cut my hand,


swore a little,


washed it,


and went back

to unscrewing chairs.


i could hear billie holiday

through a wall.


the century was over.


the work was not.




Old Windows Across The Street


old windows

across the street

like 42 eye holes.


old windows

across the street

where hands went up skirts,

sneezes were sneezed,

faces were slapped,

and doors were slammed.


old windows

across the street,

suicide is not only about death.

things give up and still go on.

things burned still burn.

the stillborn are re-born

and rubbed against the chest like

a salve of mothers’ dreams.


old windows

across the street,

flames of a woman

pressed up against the wall,

cigars put out in the soul,

victory graded with a d-,

bottles clanging in

the milk of the eye,

one real knife

for an imaginary

loaf of bread,

a broken super

hero basted in dust.


old windows

across the street,

leaning against a broken heater

with a blanket over the head,

the painting of a mountain

resembling a god-sized crap,

the swollen door

to the bathroom,

stuff the length of miseries,

phone cord chewed

by starving cats,

broken teeth of a knocked up comb,

bed missing a head board,

a body missing a ring,

a hole to nowhere.


old windows across the street

there is gambling everywhere,

at all hours,

in all ways,

like the population in a song-


sometimes no one,

sometimes everyone,


and sometimes just you


counting windows

on the building

across the street,

because

a number

of some

other sort

has been

disconnected.




Reunion


a red car

turned the

corner

very slowly

at 6 in the morning,

and while turning

the door flew open

on the driver’s side

and a woman fell out,

plus a beer can

and a sweater,

and almost getting

run over

by her own car

she screamed,

but it drove on

missing her

by inches,

and she got up

off the ground,

not even checking for cuts,

and ran after the car

with a little limp,

caught up to it,

opened the door,

and as she did

a coffee cup

and a sandwich fell out,

then she jumped back in,

turning the wheel

just before it hit

a parked car,

and drove off,


swerving

a little bit,


but

straightening

it out

as she

went on.


it was

weird

seeing

her

again.




Someone Said This Would Make A Good Song


barbecued movie stars

for everyone

says the devil,

and the forks

attack each other

in the drawer

as if they all

were spoons,

and the yelling

in the nut house

has stopped,

which means nothing,

for it's like a water fall

spilling just the same-

doesn't matter

if it's a drip

instead of a gusher-

these things bring

themselves out

even if we don't,

and inside

bonnie and clyde's

shot-up car

is where everyone

must sit someday,

but for now

it's just a great thing

to get through the newspaper

or flip through the channels

without seeing yourself,

to get through the day

without hearing back

from the dry cleaners

about the baby you left

in your pocket,

while the captain

refuses a life coat,

a lifeboat,

any life thing at all,

while dear grandma

has a tear

in her eyes

and says, "bless him."

and your grandpa,

while putting

some chew

in his cheek

says, "he's just

another damn

skirt wearer!

screw him!

if he was that

goddamn great

we wouldn't

be floating

around the

ocean!"




Surreal


salvador,

twisting his

mustache

like his mind,


as if the parts

inside him

were victrola-like,


selling

melting

watches

and mutant

horses

in the

doorway

of an

abandoned

warehouse,


as his

lady

poses

for no

one

else

but

everybody-




The Loud Mouth From Topeka


"we should get rid

of those people

who aren't americans

and send 'em back

to where they

come from,"

he said.


"there'd be

no americans left," i said.

"besides, you want to pay

for my ticket

back to africa?"


"but you’re not black," he said.


"well i'm not

goddamn choosy

about it like you are."


"what are you," he said,

"one of those dreamers that thinks

everybody can get along?"


"no, i'm more like

one of those people

who think the dumb have been given

too much say,

and the rich have fooled themselves."


"man, you’re the one

who needs to watch

what you say."


"and your daddy

should have paid

the 50 cents

to buy a goddamn

condom in the bar bathroom,

the night he fucked

your momma

to make your ass,

so we're even."


at this point it is fair to state

he was no more american

than the guy who sells

gadgets over the phone,

or fights because he has fists

and not much else.


i was not much

of a movement myself

that night either,

and i admit though

it wasn't his parents’ fault that

they gave birth

to an idiot,


it's too bad for me

he had a better left

than an argument

or an america.




The Noise Off The Surface


a cat meows backwards

and walks forwards

in the early part of december,

and my house is freezing

like a mausoleum,

but there is not so much art

as there is just

a man walking around

and looking at

where art should hang,

cursing the broken pilot light

as the dogs jump and

leap for what the apes

left in the jungle,

as tiny trees sprout from

the rudest places.


i literally could have

been anything

if i had paid attention.


but for now i am a man

with an empty seltzer bottle.


and a cat meows backwards

and walks forwards,


as i sit patiently waiting

for some warm day

to come that

literally will

make me feel

less dead,

something that

will get me back to

a more needed place,

like a place of less need,


as the workmen

repair the lines

but break the women,

and the rain still worries

too many people-


didn't we used to enjoy

the things that

messed up our hair

and made us look

indestructible?


now it's all image,

rotting like a

pretty little picture in a safe,

a seagull begging for bread

from a statue of mccarthy,

as the cat calls out

for Mao! Mao! Mao!


until

all i can

say

to that stupid cat is-


SHUT UP!

revolution don't live

here no more!


and even though

this isn't china,


and even though

you may not

speak my language,


i'm sure you'll still

understand my shoe

between your eyes.




We’re Semi-Destined


whether we go to jail

or go to a hunk

of rock in space,

we’ll go.


whether we go back

in time or go

insane sitting in a chair,

we'll go.


whether we return or

not,

whether we learn or

not,

whether we want to or

not,


we'll go.


because we've got nothing

better to do,

whether we like it or

not.


going to war or going to the market-


there's no difference,


because we're going to go


whether we're prepared or

not,

whether we care or

not,

whether we get there or

not.


our whole reason

for being here

is to leave here,


because our whole

world goes away


sometimes even

before we go away.


because eventually

everything has to go away,


because that's all

we can do,


because that's the best

we can do,


because that's

all our time

and world

and love

can do.




Whoever You Were


learning more

and more

you don't have

to go anywhere

to leave,

that it leaves you

more than you

leave it,

and

the old door

won't shut,

so i have

put a broken

skate board

in front of it

so that i can

have some

sort of

feeling that

i'm not so

open or dumb,

and i need to stay

here like this

for as long

as it

takes

so that i

don't leave

myself,

so that you

can leave me

and it can

finally

be romantic,

at least in my

selfish head

that learns

more and more

which of

our hands

is crueler,

and which

picture of me

is actually me,

in the days

when you

were

supposedly you,

and that

makes me

very depressed

to gather

that you

weren't you

until you

left me.




Why Were You Late?


i told him

that my being

a few minutes

late to work

wouldn't stop

the nation.


and i wish my boss would have

considered this, but instead he asked,

"what if everyone thought like you?"


"i'd think something different," i said.


then i walked around half asleep,

still a little drunk from last night,

straightening, fixing, cleaning.


of all the years

and all the jobs,

there is always

an easier way than lying,


but the boss tends

to like the made-up stuff,


and a nation of sober

and on time

people

thinking the same thing

won't change that.


so next time you’re late

say it was because

there was an accident

that held up traffic,

or there was a bank robbery

and the gunman took you as a hostage,

or you ate a magic bean that made you shrink

and you didn't get big until an hour ago,


whatever you want to make up,


but never tell him

you just couldn't make it

because you were tired

or you didn't want to work.


it's like telling him

that fucking christ

doesn't exist,

or that christ

is fucking his wife,

or that you're christ,

and that's

the truth.




Word Poisoning


i shot jack kerouac up

with kennedy and

not the other way around.

i burned down elvis with

hendrix and mr. king jr.

i drank bukowski and got diarrhea.

i ate burroughs and got word poisoning.

i smoked van gogh laced with crumb.

i backed over ginsberg three times.

i locked jesus out until he sobered up.

i never gave hitler a job

and never told reagan he could sing.

i walked yeats out of town

with a water pistol,

and let hemingway borrow my shotgun.

i pressed the record button for miles.

i slept with dickinson

and then sybil and then monroe,

and if i could build an indestructible monster,

it'd be out of those three elements.

i gave sitting bull my lucky coin

and i gave custer my unlucky one.

i gave ponce de leon

the wrong directions.

i marched with no one

in the 60's in any century.

i never talked to twain

even though he had a phone.

i pushed whitman and he cried.

i've done a lot of things

to a lot of people,

but i never did those things

you said i did,

i never changed the world,

because it would take

more than one of me

to make the world

a better place,

or even a horrible place,

which means you'll

never pin that rap on me,

not while i got my brains

baking on the sidewalk

as i wait for a car wreck


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