Wednesday, November 27, 2013

A Poem a Day for November - Day 27: Hey, I Wrote Two Today!

I ended up writing two poems earlier today. So, ya get double! The first one is not an attack on anyone, just me trying to tell my way of thought. The second one came from running around town with my dad today. Hope you like them! Tell me what you think! :-)

Always With Me

Pictures, torn tickets, a wilted flow:
I have them all
reminding me of happy times
and really wonderful memories.
But they are so
impermanent that looking
at them can sometimes just
leave me sad. I know
they will probably be
misplaced or left behind
in a period of forgetfulness or chaos.

My tattoos evoke memories
so powerful that sometimes
I have to stop and sit, and take
a moment to collect myself
after an image has ran itself
along my mind.

Five names are permanently
inked on to my back. Over time
I know I will add more
names of loved ones passed
from this earth but who will
always remain right here with me.

Next to these five names
are three Gaelic words
representing my family.
So many memories
on any given day
hit me when I think
of this simple tattoo.
Nothing else
would even come close
to being a reminder of
their love and strength
than having them always,
immovably, on my skin.

Every patch holds something
different: song lyrics remind me
what’s important in life,
a pattern of clovers always
tells me how strong I am
whenever I spot them
on my leg, my brother’s
unending companionship,
music that has the ability
to lift me out of
my darkest times.

No, nothing other than
permanent placement
on my skin will ever
do justice to
the things I hold most dear.

Fat Tony’s

Yeah, it sounds like
the perfect name for
a restaurant associated with
the mob, yet it sits
tucked away in the corner
of an old shopping center
across from a university
in a small city that boasts
of no connections to
that type of organized crime.

Fat Tony’s was recently
in the news because someone,
an ordinary fellow, was shot
right outside
the restaurant’s front doors.
The owner repeatedly refused
to answer numerous reporters’
questions on why he was not
the one to call the cops, instead
choosing to expel his patrons
and lock up for the night,
four hours earlier than posted.

A friend’s scooter went missing
one night right outside of Fat Tony’s.
She found it a few weeks later
adorned with a basket
and a sticker with the restaurant’s logo.
The owner told the cops that it
had always been theirs to use.

I still have no idea
how the food is
at Fat Tony’s.



  1. Hey Katie--Fat Tony's sounds like a very intriguing place and your wry tone makes it even more so. Very clever.

    I'm not someone who has ever understood tattoos very well--your poem gave me one of the clearest understandings I've ever had as to why people get them. Thanks. K.

  2. Fat Tony's reminds me of a place in Chicago I used to eat at. One night the parking lot was full of limos - and outside the main door stood two large men in suits. Inside at the entrance to the banquet hall stood two more young, burly men with designer suits and bulges where a weapon might fit snugly beneath a jacket. Inside the banquet hall sat about two dozen grey haired Italian men, chatting quietly. I don't recall what I had for dinner that night, but I don't think I shall ever forget the millieu.