ANTHOLOGIESONEANDTWOREVISITED

SELECTED EARLY POEMSFROM 1997-2001BYTERRY McCARTY

CONTENTS

THE JOB INTERVIEWRELIEFSTRIKEOUTCONVALESCINGIT S NEARLY OVERREPRIMANDED EMPLOYEEINCONVENIENCEDVISITING A PRISONERCLOSURENO WORRIES

THE JOB INTERVIEW

Didn t do any research on the company.Didn t read any books abouthow to prepare for a successful job interview.Didn t know how to answermost of the interviewer s questions.Didn t know what questionsto ask the interviewerabout the job I was applying for.Didn t want the job anyway.

After the interview ends,I leave the office buildingand stand still on the sidewalkas people hurry past me.

I return to my apartment,change into my regular clothesand call my parents

to tell them that the job interviewwent welland I should be hearingfrom the companyany day now.

RELIEF

The customer just called again.He s still angry.He s upset with the service thathe received from the Company.He s convinced that the Companyis staffed by incompetent foolswho fail to take his complaints seriously.He wants to take out his rageand frustration on one person.

I am that person.

I swallow an antacid tablet,do my best to calm him downand make yet another effortto listen to his complaintsand answer his questionsin the nicest possible voice.

Then I think of you.

Suddenly, I feel much bettereven though an angry voiceroaring from a telephone headsetthreatens to deafen meat any second.

STRIKEOUT

Sitting at the barof a restaurant\located on the 21st floorof a Westside office building,I converse with an attractive paralegalfrom Century City.

I ask her about her day, her job,how long she s lived in L.A.I listen attentively to everythingshe tells me.I m not bored with her at all.

Something must be wrong, though.I tell her about my new job as avault librarian for a post-productionfacility on Highland Avenue.

Her eyes begin to glaze over.She starts looking at a muscularyoung man who s made his third tripof the night past the bar,obviously to get a closer look at her.

The young man comes up to her,secure in the knowledgethat he has no competition.He asks her to dance.She agrees.I sit alone at the bar.

Enough of this, I tell myself.I m not going to meet a soulmate in a bar.I l l have one more drink, then leave.I ask the bartender for anothervodka and tonic,which I nurse for the next few minutes.

Before I finish my drink,I see the woman and the young manleaving the bar,hand in hand,looking as if they ve been togetherfor at least six months.

CONVALESCING

Feverish.Tired.Throat on fire.Unable to do anything.

I lie in bed,stare at the ceilingand begin waitingfor sleep to arrive.

I hope I l l get well soon.I miss you.I miss being in your arms.I miss your touch.I miss the way you say I love you as we sit togetherin perfect bliss

on your new living room sofa.

For now, I m alone.Feverish.Tired.Throat on fire.Finally able to sleep.Eager to dream only of you.

IT S NEARLY OVER

I walk into a bedroomthat used to be ours.I sit on a bedthat now belongsonly to you.I watch as you raiseyour paperback romanceto your facelike a shield.

G o away, you say. I m reading.

I wait a few minutes morebefore returning to theliving room to spendanother night on the divan.

Someday, when one of us is ready,our relationship will expirefrom exhaustion and indifference.For now, it will prevail.

We don t want to face the truth.Instead, we r e willing to tolerateone monochrome day after anothera mediocre relationship being preferableto no relationship at all.

REPRIMANDED EMPLOYEE

I stand, paralyzed,as I, along with the rest of the office,listen to you,with your red voice and loud face,as you proceed to call me incompetentand accuse me ofcosting the company TIME.And, of course,TIME is MONEY.

I stand, paralyzed,enduring your angry lecture,reminding myself thatI literally cannot afford to respond.Instead, I wait for you to finishso I can go back to workand waste no more TIME.

INCONVENIENCED

At 9:30 a.m.,I receive a phone callfrom the principal ofthe suburban high schoolmy son attends.

The principal tells methat my son is gettinga three-day suspensionfrom school for fightingwith another boy.If this ever happens again,the principal assures me,my son will be transferredto a school for problem students.

I hang up the phone,dazed but not too surprised.

Six weeks ago,my son s best friendwas expelled from schoolwhen a loaded pistolwas found in his locker.

When my son heard this,he exploded.He spent over an hourin an effort to convince methat guns are necessary in schoolsfor self-defenseand, in his own words, t o show other people you re not to be messed with. He went on to say, I f anyone messes with me,then I m going to get a gun.The next time something happens,I l l be ready.

His words frightened me.

As a result, I grounded himfor two weeks.I also told him tonever speak to his best friend again.

For the next month,my son barely spoke to me.

Now I have to deal withhis suspension from school.Unfortunately, this is notthe best of times for me.

My employee evaluationtakes place tomorrow;I m hoping for a promotionto manager of my division.

Believe me,I need the extra money.Mortgage payments,homeowner s insurance payments,car payments,my ex-wife s alimonyall of these expenses are killing me.I barely have enough moneyto pay for groceries each week.

I m almost forty-twoIf I m ever downsized,the job market will be scarcefor middle-aged peoplein my line of work.

Right nowbottom lineI need to keep the job I have.Therefore, my son will have to wait.

VISITING A PRISONER

I watch as you proceedfrom one disaster to another,never learning from your mistakes.Instead, you fervently hope thatbad things will neverhappen to you twice.

I watch as you become infuriatedby actual or perceived slights from others,never learning how to maintainyour composure in the face of adversity.Instead, you feast on the memoryof someone s insultfrom five years agoas though it happened yesterday.

I watch as you treat meto another bitter, self-sorrowing monologue

about how your life is half-over,how difficult it isto find the right woman,how you lack the job skillsand the maturity to survive and prosperin what you refer to as t his increasingly callous world.

I try to give you some advice.I try to tell you to love yourselfand to be less judgmental.I try to tell you that it s necessaryto compromise sometimesin order to successfullyinteract with other people.

You re having none of that.You scream at me,accusing me of not understandinga word you re saying.

That s my cue to leave.

Only you can help yourself now.

But I get the nagging feelingthat you l l always want to be right.And, as a result, you l l continue tolive in your comfortable prison cellsafe from the sorrows and joysof the outside worldfor the rest of your life.

CLOSURE

I broke something.It can t be repaired.Apologies won t help.Promising to change my wayswon t help.You ve given me only one choice:walk away and never return.

I tell my friendsthe sad story of my bad behavior( a nd the consequences thereof )over and over again,in hopes of elicitingthe maximum amount of sympathyfor my plight.

Eventually, my friends decide

they ve had enough.People begin to avoid me.My phone calls aren t returned.The message is clear:I need to quit wallowing in miseryand go on with my life.

I try to console myselfwith the belief thatthere is a place for mesomewhere in this world.

All I need to do nowis to learn howto enter that placeas an adult.

NO WORRIES

As I drive my caralong the highway of life,I see dozens of cars, trucks and SUVspassing mesome at blinding rates of speed.

I recall my life so farand I begin to worry.I l l never be asked to read poetryat the Getty Center.I l l never be publishedin THE PARIS REVIEW.I l l never make the money from writingthat will enable me to live ina rustic home in Topanga Canyon.

I become stuck in gridlockand I continue worrying.I think about the times

I should have said yesinstead of no.I think about the timesI should have said noinstead of yes.I think about the timeswhere I should have saidnothing at all.

I wish I had been more consideratetowards certain people while theywere still alive.I wish I hadn t allowed the negativityof other people to shape my self-esteemfor most of my life.

The gridlock is over.I look to my right,I see youand my worries begin to disappear.

You re the only one for me.You encourage me to try new thingsand ignore the boundariesI ve lived within for too many years.You tell me to be more forgivingof my past and present sins.You advise me to love myself always.

In a few months,you and I will spend a week in the desert.At the end of that week,we will be husband and wife.We will drive away in our new carand continue the journey alongthe highway of life.

We don t know what the future will bring.But as long as we continue cherishingand appreciating each other,

there will be no reasonto worry anymore.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Terry McCarty was born in Electra, Texas in 1959.He has lived in California since 1988.He became involved in reading, and writing poetry in1997.Among his chapbooks are HOLLYWOOD POETRY,WICHITA FALLS, USE YOUR DELUSION ONE ANDTWO, BORN TO WALK, INSUFFICIENT GRAVITASand, most recently, I SAW IT ON TVpublishedby RD Raindog Armstrong s Lummox Press as partof the Little Red Book series.

I SAW IT ON TV can be ordered from:http://www.lummoxpress.com