Teething wisdom, the citizenry can’t stop /
won’t stop chattering and boxing their ears.
There are no scandals—the sine wave
I imagine the Borg
edge on hard-core in their alcoves, relent
solely to materialize violence. Today
I try to write a poem and pleasure
fissures a blank.
feelings. Fed struggle. Fed thought. Fed
potential. On dark nights Janet Jackson
meditates. She envisions a colourless
spaceship. She and her brother
Because your baby is a hummingbird your hands are camcorder. In the nursery you study them: one reads REC, the other today’s date 16/04/10. Your son won’t stop announcing ballgames, and the players keep updating their wills. The call goes to machine: It’s your mother; she dug another feeder from the attic.
A couple of wheelbarrow approach with their toddling luggage. They tip their trays and spill a little recognition. You and your partners’ pull-tab noses grin apart your Frisky tin lips. As your child flutters from mouth to mouth, theirs springs its handle and screams out its flight tags, “I wanna go in the trunk! I wanna be packed forever!” The baby-book cools in the fridge.
Again, you pace towards the window. The fish chum stains paint a trail towards the crumpling society of ants. You remember.
The man and woman next to me are done picking at their fries.
The woman has an exposed knee and the man has long hair
I order a burger and fries, excited by this rare chance to dine alone.
The sexy couple get up in their coats and go psst, psst, psst.
A weed breeze is let in.
I am entitled to all the ginger ale I want so long as I never leave
for any reason other than to smoke. All I have to do is ask for more.
The waiter has a cord.
My burger and fries come and both are good. A friend out west
texts to say I would be proud of him because he is pushing buttons
at the federal NDP convention in Edmonton.
As a white, Jewish, able-bodied, cis-gendered, middle-class man,
I often feel like the character bit by a zombie screaming
I am picking at my fries, but my waiter will not ask, “Are you done,
or are you still picking?” I will have put everything on my plate
in a way I read you should.