Tomorrow Is Not Even Not Here Yet

It's October 11, 2007,
also February 6, 1974
and December 5, 2012.
I'm watching infomercials
on getting rich
and just broke my glasses
in a bicycle wipeout
and Turkey just slaughtered
the Armenians again.
The rich are going broke in their way,
selling their boats; I sold my bass today.
I dream of going Rimbaud,
but one can't disappear
and even if so, no one would care
unless I were blond and sweet
and seemingly Christian
but secretly lascivious
with the island fair.

These moments intersect in me
and everyone, if they looked,
but they've all learned to cook.
They're improving their houses,
their bodies, their minds,
and most of all their children,
insisting they go blind
with ambition before they're five:
sixteen languages and etiquette lessons,
calling me by name like middle managers.
By the time they're sixteen,
they'll pretend I'm their friend
when I enter my Blockbuster card
for a supersonic high definition disk.
Porn is so much sharper than coupling
and lacks the boredom of sex minus risk.
Yes, I think I'll stay home with the Internet
and go mentally broke with endless variety,
fifty thousand news sources and all women wet.

I'm tempted to go for a walk,
but I feel psychoanalyzed, practically stalked.
Everyone waves: "Hello, hello.
"You must be new on the block.
"You aren't Jewish, are you?
"I mean, I respect your views,
"but we're hoping to perfect you
"in Jesus Christ; it's mostly about wedding rice."

Christ, I moved to an island and can't escape.
I thought I'd be safer near life marine
but, like everywhere, I play the slot machine.
"Welcome to the club, we live on stilts.
"To slow down our lives, we've started to quilt.
"And don't worry, you'll grow immune to the hives."
It's all preserved and alligators lurk;
they know what we want. Give us the teeth.
Tear us apart. Set us free from our quirks.
We need bloodbaths to make us clean,
to bring us back to the age of fifteen,
so we can start over and repeat our mistakes.

In death, we all see this intersection.
Meanwhile, I'm going to the doctor
with a four-hour erection.
I'll hide it behind Time Magazine
and read about trends that started last month
with lifespans as long as the shortest candles.
I'll read book reviews of "essential American fables,"
already in pyramids on remainder tables.
And something political happened, all kinds of scandals.

I rise to put the magazine back, losing my balance,
numb feet in sandals.
My hardon takes out an old woman's eye.
Now she thinks I'm half-Jewish;
I'm Hungarian goyem, you stupid bitch.
By the way, I've blocked all channels
from your Christian antenna,
and I'm sorry about your detached retina.

I think later, when my hardon is gone,
I'll go for a walk despite the heat
and look for her bandage
from the left side of the street.

Lettuce

Let us free the cows
Let them choke the highways
And the sheep, too
Did they ask for haircuts, no

I've become a vegetarian
I demand the world join me
I request your help
I am but one steward

Let us wear marijuana coats
Let us take because we take
Let us take with compassion

Let us remember the plants deserve it
Freed our burden of consciousness
Let us revenge ourselves upon them
Without conscience, without mercy

Publishing on Demand

There's no audience whatsoever,
no orders, no Amazon.com reviews.
The lines are borrowed, stolen,
lifted as if by kleptomaniacs,
or, if lucky,
we're the monkeys who type Shakespeare,
modernized but unoriginal.

Everything occurs in arcs,
embedded arcs.
We plot like sole-destination trading ships.

A few of us become famous;
most of us die unknown.
Apparently, it makes a difference.

But we're all guaranteed one audience:
At our funerals,
Somebody reads some poem we wrote.

In death, we're published on demand
and everyone attends our readings.






Paul A. Toth lives in Sanibel, Florida. His first novel Fizz and its successor Fishnet are available now. Short fiction credits include The Barcelona Review, Night Train and The Mississippi Review Online. His poetry has featured by The Potomac, Nth Position, Piker Press, Arabesques Review, and others. Go HERE for more information.

Last update : 01-11-2007 07:32

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