"Radio" by Nicholas Bon
A song plays from a cheap radio.
This unessential radio. It's 2018,
and we have flying cars now.
Elvis Presley plays from the metal
flowers on the wall. The dogs glow
with their poisons. They just want to be
loved, like you. You go to the sink
to run water through the strainer.
It’s filled with seashells, broken glass,
small planets, fever, etc., etc.
You write your secrets in the blood
on your counter, in the wounds
of others. Then you clean it
meticulously. They called this
censorship when they gave it
a name.
"Check Engine Light" by Nicholas Bon
I hold the fire closely so I can keep it warm.
This is one example of how I address my problems.
Like how I burned a thousand irreplaceable photographs
to keep them safe from the light. This is the only way
I know I can be in control. Remember, every day is new
only because it has no other choice. It's what must be.
Like how you are not me. The bridge is not the lake.
The telephone is not an answer, no matter how much
we might want it to be. You've heard what I have to say,
my words so ugly when you let them settle around
your books like little orange leaves. You’ve seen how
my inertia keeps me from doing whatever it is I should
be doing instead. In this car on fire. In this plane
heading for the ground. Everything here in this world
is a hierarchy or a textbook, but the textbooks
can't dismantle the hierarchies, and I’m so sick of both.
In my car I turn the music up loud to drown out
the rattling sound I should probably do something about.
This is one example of how I address my problems.
It’s how I’ll find a worthy foundation to build upon.
Remember, I never asked for any of this. All I’ve ever
wanted is to live in a world where every peach is ripe
and it's finally time to sleep.