Friday, March 02, 2007


Cold Mountain published a poem entitled Tom Waits, I hate you by Simone Muench. You can also find it on Words on Walls dot net.
Tom Waits, I Hate You

the way your voice snags
my skin when I'm waltzing
through a coffee shop, for the thousand
crows caught in your throat,
how it rains
every time I play "Tom Traubert's Blues."
I hate you for every Valentine you never sent.
Call me indigo, azure, cerulean; call me
every shade of clue for being born
two decades after you.

I hate you for every cornfield, filling
station, phone booth I've passed with my feet
on the dash, listening to you pluck
nightingales from a piano; writhing
as if it were my ribcage being played
beneath a moon that is no grapefruit,
but the bottom of a shot glass.

For every bad relationship, every dead pet,
and every car I've wrecked
into light posts trying to tune you out;
for all the lost radios, Walkmans
tossed over bridges -- still the sound of you
rising from water like a prayer at midday,
or the ragged song of cicadas
tugging frogs out of watery homes.

For every lounge lizard, raindog, barfly
I've met; for every vinyl booth I've been pushed
into by a boy with a bad haircut;
for every man I've fucked
according to the angle of his chin
or the color of his coat.
Tom Waits, I hate you.

Well, the night is too dark
for dreaming; the barman bellows out
last call; and you've turned me into a gun-
street girl with a pistol and a grudge
and an alligator belt, a pocket
full of love letters
that have never been sent.

This poem can be found in the collection The Air Lost in Breathing.

(thanks to Máquina de Huesos)


Hot Whiskey Press said...

This poem is crap. I hate to say it, but it is. Tom would not approve...

youki said...

tom approves. he owns the book. thanks.

DrPod said...

You gotaa be kidding, whiskey - it's just wonderful.