Under the Bridge & Other Absurdities

By Vincent Vecchio

Under the Bridge & Other Absurdities— a short-winded, knee-popping jog through the ridiculousness of adulthood from the loss of loved ones, hair-pulling traffic jams, unemployment, unplugging, grisly gun violence, homelessness and the evaporating tonic of youth, featuring "Under the Bridge" in the May 85th issue of Drunk Monkeys & "Bourbon Bumblebees" in the Autumn 2023 issue of New Note Poetry, as well as social media favorites such as "Dad," "Traffic," & "More Guns, Please."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vincent Vecchio
• Release date: Oct 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223536833

Vincent Vecchio

Vincent Vecchio is an on-and-off again writer and amateur photographer from Vancleave, MS. He’s had poetry published in The Write Launch, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, The Evening Street Review, Phantom Kangaroo, Drunk Monkeys, New Note Poetry, Black Sunflowers Poetry Press and more.

Book preview

By Vincent Vecchio

For Kimber, my human.

Table of contents:

-  Under the Bridge

-  Bourbon Bumblebees

-  More Guns, Please

-  Traffic

-  Such a Damn Good Cigarette

-  Jenga Blocks

-  We’d Never Dream...

-  The Check Engine Light’s on

-  Nightshift at a Waffle House

-  Dad

-  Visiting Dad’s Grave

-  1am. &

-  Ego Death

-  Querencia

-  July 4th— a journal entry.

-  A Wack-ass Workforce

-  Slugabed

-  Gibberish (but genuine)

-  The Planet of People Who Have Completely Run Out of Things to Do

Under the Bridge

Burning eyes’re pried open. 

Gangly limbs dang near rigor mortis  

Muster themselves from hibernation,  

Grateful for the sunrise. 

May God damn that midnight chill, 

A ridiculing cold that erodes 

An already dying soul.

Ears street-trained for threats 

Tune-in to the dejected trudge  

Of convicts picking up trash 

Along the highway; 

My only company today  

Yet none of them acknowledge me. 

I’m beneath them.  

The existential frost’s shaken off 

To strum a beat-up, five string acoustic 

Guitar filled with rocks and leaves 

(Don’t ask why. It’s my homeless thing.) 

For insults and change ‘til a cop  

With a chip on his shoulder 

Complains I’m loitering.

On to the next spot. 

Dumpster-dives behind McDonald’s, 

Plenty of scraps to go around & feed 

Some stray, terribly chatty calicos.

You’re not alone, my furry amigos.

Later on, shoplift a bottle of wine. 

No corkscrews. Break the neck 

Open right on the pavement,

The broken shards all too similar 

To my morale as they’re  

Washed away

From a leaky bridge 

Soggyin’-up my cardboard bed. 

Have t’dry it out in the morning,

I suppose,

& remember t’catch a little bit 

Of rain water in a dingy party cup  

For brushing my teeth too.

No moon tonight,  

Only the drunken croon 

Of my harmonica.

Hopefully someone, somewhere’ll  

Hear its lonesome tune, and there it’ll stay, 

Etched into their dreams—

A little piece of me.

No one to