Poetry by Sam Waszkelewcicz

Sam Waszkelewcicz is a writer and door to door salesman living in West Hartford Connecticut. His work has appeared only on scrap pieces of paper and notebooks that he tucks away in the back pocket of his Levi’s.

 

Twin Bed

You me and the dog
Crammed together in our twin bed
Us spooning
And the dog nestled in between our feet
Neither of us able to move
I always slept perfectly however
The type of sleep one dreams of having
And Now that the two of you are gone
I cannot sleep
For there’s far too much room
In this ocean of a tiny bed
That was once all ours
And is now
just mine

 

What a Juxtaposition

One day
Sitting in a chair
I straddled
The two realms of
the earths skin

To the right
It was lost long ago
Lost to the first butthole
Fucked in the city
Forgotten in a cubby hole of a bar
Where last call never comes

And to the left
I hear
I am the king of the house
I am the king of my dreams
I am kevin
Pizza!
As the swing goes higher and higher

We yearn for
The swing, to stay
With filtered eyes
And that purity
But at some point we all get up
And walk towards the black hole

Leaving all of that
School house stuff
Behind

 

Lottery

My space is nothing
but a hand ticking
A white walled straight jacket
There’s movement
In peripheral
But to touch
Or speak
Are a lottery away
Have you ever seen the odds
Of winning?
Please play
Responsibly