Poetry: Gary Beck

Gary Beck
New Landlord

The scaffolding gets higher.
Soon it will reach my windows
and they’ll do the same thing 
they did to Miss Perez,
cover them with plywood sheets
so she didn’t get any light.
She held out for a while,
then gave up and moved.
I have nowhere else to go
so I’ll try to hang on here,
even when they seal me in
as if I’m in a crypt.
I looked up on Google
landlord techniques:
‘how to get rid of
undesired tenants’,
so I’m preparing
for what they’ll do next.
I’m stocking up on water
for when they cut the water.
I even have sealable bags
for when I can’t use the toilet.
I have lots of power bars,
other kinds of dried foods
so I’ll be able to eat
when they stop the elevator.
I don’t dare leave the building
cause there might be an accident
that destroys the entrance.
I made arrangements
with my Pro Bono lawyer
to bring suit against them
if they cut the power.
Until then I have my Ipad,
internet services
and I’ll hold out for a long time.
If they want to get rid of me
all I want is enough money
to live the rest of my life
without becoming homeless.
If they’ll do that
I won’t go happily,
but I’ll go.
 
***


Viewpoint

Most of the guys I grew up with
are dead, or in prison,
mostly forgotten
except the few who made it big.

One guy is a famous rapper,
wears fur coats, diamond rings,
has a big posse
that follows him everywhere
in expensive limos.

One guy is a big drug dealer,
wears fur coats, diamond rings,
has a big posse
that follows him everywhere
armed with automatic weapons,
travels in armored SUVs.

I don’t think of them much
while driving the bus
five nights a week,
four to midnight
on a Queens route
far from where I live.

Sometimes, riding home late at night,
I’m tired from wrestling the big bus,
taking shit from everybody
so I don’t get written up
by an undercover rat
looking for violations.

It’s usually not too bad,
except at rush hour
when drivers get crazy,
passengers crowded together
afraid of catching Covid,
a weirdo acting out.

But the pay is alright
and the benefits are good.
I got eight more years
til I get twenty
and retire with a pension.

The boys’ll start college soon,
but I worry about Keisha
hanging out with black activists
doin what she thinks is right,
pushing me to get involved.

I made a choice
to get a secure job,
not do crime, not die young,
so my kids will have a chance
to do better than me.

We don’t talk much,
but I guess they understand
we’ve got a pretty good life
in a difficult country
that gets crazier and crazier.

Something’s real wrong
when people go nuts,
are full of hate,
shoot up schools and churches
until no one feels safe.

I don’t like to think of that stuff.
I’ll just do my twenty,
maybe a few more years
for a bigger pension
and stay out of trouble.

But once in a while late at night,
going home in the subway,
I think of the rapper, the dealer,
with a little envy for what they got
that I’ll never get.
 
***


Jitters

I trudge down Covid streets
masked, distancing,
though others don’t,
not meeting people’s eyes –
can I catch it with a look?
Alright. I know that sounds nuts,
but I don’t want to catch it.
I have to go shopping –
I didn’t stock up on food
and the store’s always crowded,
not shoulder to shoulder,
but it always feels too close.
It’s driving me crazy.
I’ll have to make changes.
I’ll order food on-line,
won’t go out anymore
until the disease is gone
and hope I survive.
***


Household Crisis

I go to the store
for the week’s supplies.
Prices went up again.
I have to buy enough food
for four people.

The kids have to get
basic nutrition.
Bill has to eat well
to have the energy
to drive for Uber.

So I make good meals
with rice, spaghetti,
other basic foods
supplemented with 
hamburger meat.

But everything
keeps going up,
so I have to choose
where I can save
in order to provide
three meals daily.

Everyone’s been patient
and haven’t been complaining
about the lunch menu,
peanut butter and jelly.
But I don’t know what we’ll do
if the prices go up.

We can’t cut back on rent,
utilities, insurance,
so we’ll have to eat less
until the government
finally does it’s job
and controls inflation.
***


Fragile Rights

In 411 B.C.
Athenian oligarchs
overthrew democracy
and murdered opponents
who might have resisted  the coup.
Despite its imperfections
the ancient government
was a miracle
of human engineering
that allowed people to rule
who formerly obeyed
chiefs, warlords, or kings,
without voice in affairs of state.

It took a long time
for democracy
to appear again,
always perilously frail
like America today,
dangerously divided
by conflicting groups
unable to compromise
for the good of the people,
positions so extreme
we are adversarial
rather than cooperative
and can’t deal with the problems
diminishing the prospects
of a prosperous future
for too many of us.

Meanwhile madness pervades the land
as lunatics and haters
go on shooting rampages,
once inconceivable
now condition normal,
except those victimized
and the quality of life
continues to decline
for too many of us
beginning to fear
there is no reconciliation.
***

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