New Poetry by Joseph Reich

Getting through the daze

Recently been having this vision

of the whole Peanuts gang nodding

out on heroin, heads really hanging

perhaps around that poor crestfallen

Christmas tree where all the pine

needles have posthumously fallen

with the fizzling lights, droopy star

teetering on top, all messed-up around

the mound by that makeshift lemonade

psychiatrist stand, or that wall where Linus

and good ole Chuck Brown make their final

stand, bow their heads, grief-stricken, contemplative

and question, Socratic method, kind and compassionate

their existence, contented. watching days pass right

in front of them, and see both their perspectives, their

moods and behavior, then crash with elbows eternally

leaned-up, head in hand and earnestly, existentially

discuss dreams and goals, resolve conflicts and try

to figure out the futile, impossible problems of the

world, the pained and perplexing suffering soul

exchanging thoughts and ideas and future plans

right where the seasons change, but scene always

seems to remain the same, the trees and leaves

and tops of bleak twinkling roofs, steeples,

temples, mosques, mausoleums, streets

and lamplight sputtering with a pastel

sun falling, big bulge of breathtaking

moon rising, turning from day to evening

leaving simply those stray starlit stoops

with a whole wistful windswept village

swept up in blessed silhouetted geometric

forms and images of the sobering season

The hyperactive and psychotic and driven

Snoopy who I never  much cared for

his overconfident personality

Marcy and Peppermint Patty

finally finding each other

Pigpen misunderstood

underestimated

Franklin the black

kid never taken in

Lucy the loud mouth

who just never shuts

the fuck up, but who

knows maybe I’m just

going through some sort

of mid-life crisis of sorts

most likely not and am just

trying to find ways to cope

and catch up on everything

I believe I missed out on

from a very complex

and competitive

overbearing 

and overwhelming

passive-aggressive

impossible Jewish culture

does that make sense at all?

And so thus maybe just prefer

seeing the whole Peanuts gang

strung-out on dope, not saying

a whole hell of a lot

a bunch of distant

disobedient dwarf

dope addicts

completely

out of it

contented

centered

blissfully

nodding out

to that brilliant

bee-bopping piano

and brush drums

of a mean and

moody magical

Vince Guaraldi solo

building up then fading

off in the background

all of them naturally

shuffling home

on their own

by their own

choice and

volition

pace and

space and

time and

leisure in

a constant

state of flux

through the fading

glow and opaque

drizzly autumnal

leaf piles of some

divine dwindling

disappearing season.

- Joseph Reich 2015

Joseph Reich has been published in a wide variety of eclectic literary journals both here and abroad, been nominated five times for The Pushcart Prize, and his books in poetry and cultural studies include, "A Different  Sort Of Distance" (Skive Magazine Press) "If I Told You To Jump Off The Brooklyn Bridge" (Flutter Press) "Pain Diary: Working Methadone & The Life & Times Of The Man Sawed In Half" (Brick Road Poetry Press) "Drugstore Sushi" (Thunderclap Press) "The Derivation Of Cowboys & Indians" (Fomite Press) "The Housing Market: a comfortable place to jump off the end of the world" (Fomite Press) "The Hole That Runs Through Utopia" (Fomite Press)  "Taking The Fifth And Running With It: a psychological guide for the hard of hearing and blind" (Broadstone Books) "The Defense Mechanisms: your survival guide to the fragile mind" (Fomite Press)