New Year's Day Poem by Frank Bana

New Year’s Day

you have the money woes
You hide them very well.
Wall Street got you down? Bones
Broken on the wheel? You disguise it
Really well. My outrageous aching neck
Protesting what befell. The promise
Of deducting all the sixty floors
From which you lately fell.

The basement flood brings down the house
Your engines poisoning
The air, the atmosphere
Leaks in from the garage. You did not switch
From gas, electric green
For pussies, red
The glow of your slow-
bleeding life

The angry child, the loud
Angry & unrequited wife
Her wide demanding mouth, barely
Domesticated claws. The pleasure is all your’s.

I’m sorry for it, every bit.
For I, my friend, have known it all
Before I got out, New Year’s Day
On the swift heels of my resolution
I don’t know yet if I’m alive
If I survived
To witness and enjoy
My own final solution.