"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.