scotchandsalad.blogspot.com
Scotch and Salad: March 2012
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2012_03_01_archive.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Monday, March 12, 2012. Angel Doesn't Live Here. Cops kept coming to my door. 2, 3 times a day they knocked. I kept telling them. Angel doesn't live here". They showed me his mugshot. He looked like his crime. Domestic abuse, bodily harm. Never seen the guy before," I told them. Eventually the cops stopped showing up. Maybe they caught him. Or maybe Angel found his nice little slice of heaven. Held up in a safe house. In a nowhere barrio. A Pringle can filled w/ cigarette butts.
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Scotch and Salad: June 2014
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2014_06_01_archive.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Wednesday, June 11, 2014. I’m on the bus heading to work. My stomach is killing me. A vegetable cleanse the Mrs. and I are doing. An old black man in a fisherman’s cap is reading from the bible. He is an ordained member of the ministry of bus yahoos. I can tell by everyone’s face. They’re not having it. Especially the old Jewish ladies in the handicap section. He’s blocking the exit. The kids are drawing dick pics and Latin King tags on the walls. And the #50 plods on.
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Scotch and Salad: August 2015
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2015_08_01_archive.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Tuesday, August 4, 2015. Hands shucked into oblivion. Arms burned to the point of suicide attempts. A million sous chefs. Screaming a million nothings. At a million Ecuadorian lifers. Stuck in brunch service. We do it for love. We do it for abuse. We do it for the hell of it. We do it for the hell. 169; 2015 Lee Kitzis. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). You can order my two chapbooks, EIGHT DOLLARS AN HOUR and THE LAUNDROMAT GIRL, through this site. View my complete profile.
scotchandsalad.blogspot.com
Scotch and Salad: July 2014
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2014_07_01_archive.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Tuesday, July 29, 2014. Eulogy at the End of a Production Kitchen Shift. I was halfway through 25 lbs of pesto. When I got the call that you died. You took a walk. Went into a building. They said it wasn't good. And you never came out. I went back to work. You look past the sickness. You look past the veil. So I'll do that. And I'll probably bring up. How you looked just like Ted Danson. And how you hated when I told you that. He's a handsome man, Tom. 169; 2014 Lee Kitzis.
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Scotch and Salad: August 2013
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2013_08_01_archive.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Wednesday, August 14, 2013. I scrambled some eggs. And bought a lottery ticket. The odds were 1 in 575,757. I thought of you. Another 10 hr shift. Screamed their idiot screams. You came to bed. And told me I had 20 minutes. When we finished I told you. I used 19 minutes 30 seconds. And you fell asleep. And I read a short story. 1294 in our bank account. 1 in 575,757. You never believe me. When I tell you you're beautiful. So I will tell you. 169; 2013 Lee Kitzis. Extinguish Me - Blog.
scotchandsalad.blogspot.com
Scotch and Salad: Albany Park
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2014/04/albany-park.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Sunday, April 20, 2014. When insomnia has finished staining your eyes. W/ the perpetual winter. The crows have picked clean. The wonderment of junkyards. You have fallen deeply out of love with. You are left w/ steel and granite. And a bottle of wine. In the Mexican neighborhood. Your grandma warned you about. The raises have been small. And the murders have been many. The mailman has a flamethrower. The squirrels have knives. The robin reported a break-in. And the cops never showed.
scotchandsalad.blogspot.com
Scotch and Salad: Miracles
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2014/06/miracles.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Wednesday, June 11, 2014. I’m on the bus heading to work. My stomach is killing me. A vegetable cleanse the Mrs. and I are doing. An old black man in a fisherman’s cap is reading from the bible. He is an ordained member of the ministry of bus yahoos. I can tell by everyone’s face. They’re not having it. Especially the old Jewish ladies in the handicap section. He’s blocking the exit. The kids are drawing dick pics and Latin King tags on the walls. And the #50 plods on.
scotchandsalad.blogspot.com
Scotch and Salad: April 2014
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2014_04_01_archive.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Sunday, April 20, 2014. When insomnia has finished staining your eyes. W/ the perpetual winter. The crows have picked clean. The wonderment of junkyards. You have fallen deeply out of love with. You are left w/ steel and granite. And a bottle of wine. In the Mexican neighborhood. Your grandma warned you about. The raises have been small. And the murders have been many. The mailman has a flamethrower. The squirrels have knives. The robin reported a break-in. And the cops never showed.
scotchandsalad.blogspot.com
Scotch and Salad: The Line
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2015/08/the-line.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Tuesday, August 4, 2015. Hands shucked into oblivion. Arms burned to the point of suicide attempts. A million sous chefs. Screaming a million nothings. At a million Ecuadorian lifers. Stuck in brunch service. We do it for love. We do it for abuse. We do it for the hell of it. We do it for the hell. 169; 2015 Lee Kitzis. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). You can order my two chapbooks, EIGHT DOLLARS AN HOUR and THE LAUNDROMAT GIRL, through this site. View my complete profile.
scotchandsalad.blogspot.com
Scotch and Salad: The Octopus
http://scotchandsalad.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-octopus.html
Poems by Lee Kitzis. Wednesday, February 18, 2015. The owner came in. Saw the octopus on the counter and went. This reminds me of my holidays in the Mediterranean.". It fell on deaf ears. With the prep cooks and the line cooks. Who had an average of 3 kids. And just as many jobs. Paulo leaned over and went. Man, I fucking hate rich people.". Dick deep in meatballs. I got the nickname. One I didn't want. Which made it stick harder. In charge of family meal. A hot kitchen and three kids. The dance was ours.
