3 poems from Shannon Peil‏

Shannon Peil is 25 now and that seems weird. He edits for people who know what they are doing at http://amphibi.us, a site that costs money but coincidentally makes none. He failed economics.

'tuesday mornings'

my old neighbor
[60's, leather skinned]
lived in a house across
the way

he built himself
[on the side of his property]
a garage and filled it
with cars

he said, 'junior -'
[he always called me that]
'junior there's not much in life
besides contentment'

and he said this
[as an old bachelor]
after his kids and ex-wife left
years ago

'you can find a number in the paper,'
[the Westword, I think]
'and if you call on a work day
it's cheap'

their cars would park, Tuesday morning
[out front, facing my house]
and a little asian would go in
then leave

and he'd come out front
[Marlb red and a Coors in hand]
and smile across the way at me
just content.

'solitude'

my knees hurt
supporting the pointy weight
of my elbows
supporting the dead weight
of my head
cradled carefully
while i piss sitting down
because i am too drunk to stand

my toes hurt
from stabbing them
against the aptly named
kick panel of the wall
as i ambled in here
before sitting down
before realizing
i needed to turn the light on
if i was ever going to find my dick

my dick hurt
and it is unpleasant
when pissing is the biggest chore
of all
because you've got a rash
on your shaft
from the loneliness
when you've got a shiny
new ten gauge ring
hanging elegant
from the head of a cock
staring at you like a dog
scared you're about to beat it again

i dribble lazily
for a while
and when it's over i feel relieved
relieved enough to take comfort
on the soft
dirty bathroom floor rug
its damness is fixed easily
by pulling a towel from the hook
to use as a pillow
and sleep

i wake to my roommate knocking
first soft
then noticeably annoyed
decibel output increasing
and i stand and answer
looking down to realize
i am wearing boxer-briefs
and my throat chokes up as i try to speak
it is awkward
but not just because i am nearly naked
but because
it isn't like some friend came calling
and i answered the door
no
it was like someone needed to use the head
and i was passed out drunk in it

the conversation is cut short abruptly
and i flush
exit hastily
retreat to the comfort of my own room
where no one knocks
and witnesses moments like this
occasional lapses of judgment
that are becoming more frequent
this year
i lay down
think about that look in his eye
the embarrassment for me
that i should have been feeling
but am currently unable to
and learn something from this

i need my own place

'19 & bleeding in New Orleans'

the men all screamed
'show me yr tits!'
& the women laughed
they yelled down at me
from the patios
'show me yr dick!'
& i was fuzzy
dazed
& agreeable
i dropped my pants
to the knee
presented myself
smiling wide as they hooted
threw beads down
then yelled
'look out!'
&
watched the cop
throw me face down
grinning into the concrete