Mint Condition Day
How I got it made starts after breakfast,
they must always be in a hurry to waste so much.
There are a lot of good neighborhoods
but gun to my head, you can bury me right here
on the corner of ninth and forty-sixth street—
Queen trash can, I call her, surrounded by her minions—
at least five eateries snuggled up tight.
Today, I got me the usual rounds of half-eaten muffins and bagels,
a little oj to wash it down with,
but then I got the gold, the king kong of treats,
a full, warmed up cup of coffee with the top still on it!
It don’t have no lipstick or nothin’,
clean as a new shine on the hood of a Cadillac—
it’s mint condition day.
It was premeditated,
I waited for him to pick me up as usual for our weekly chat,
park the car outside the golf course,
grab the self-indulgent, post-divorce, pity-me bat
that he keeps in the back seat
(the same bat that has left my dad-scarred ears nearly unrecognizable)
and made my move—
I took the keys from the ignition, got out of the car, locked the doors
and before he knew what hit him, shoved the car into a golf ball washer,
I then took control of the lever, thrashing the car up and down
with the intention of stopping when the soap bubbles emerged
signifying that the car and everything in it had been cleansed to mint condition,
only I didn’t stop, my arms kept pumping
until I saw blood emerge from the washer,
and then I knew.
© Drew Nacht
Drew Nacht has had dozens of poems accepted by journals and magazines and looks forward to publishing his first book of poetry shortly.