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CLOSE / Parnassiad


Peace and Other Stories


Fragments of a Formerly Active Sex Life



Mr. Jones and Me
by Julian X  /  poetry  /  28 Jul 2007

On TV today the NYSE.  Lexus sponsors the Super Bowl.

My newspaper tells me about a new safer bicycle

at four hundred dollars a pop.

 

I had to stay late at work today.  My body dripped

with sweat.  I was sick but went in anyway.  Can’t

afford to miss.  Can’t

survive getting axed.

 

I’ll never go to Harvard.  I’ll never go to Yale.

My bills are stamped “No Paris.”  My student loans

are stamped “No London.”

 

I felt sad today so,

as I filled my tank with gas,

I charged myself a soda that cost another fifth of an hour of my life

or a third after tax.

 

I watched a film today.  It said this is a free

country and my heart swelled.  The days of slavery

are ended.

 

I’ll never go to Rome.  I’ll never go to Prague.

My rent check is stamped “No French Lessons.”  My car insurance

is stamped “No Dining Out.”

 

I remember Charles Dickens

from when I was forced to read

by a barely literate high school teacher.  The days of indentured servitude

are over.

 

I remember that biased sketch

of history that I memorized for my

“A.” When labor unions were necessary.  The industrial revolution

is kaput.

 

I’ll never go to Nashville.  I’ll never go to L.A.

My phone bill is stamped “No Computer.”  My heath care

is stamped “No Movies.”

 

A new Indian restaurant opened.  I heard it on

TV.  TV is free.

But it makes me want to buy athletic shoes.

 

My street’s stop sign has bullet holes.  But

today on TV I heard the man

say we’re the only superpower left.

 

I’ll never see The Parthenon.  I’ll never see The Statue of Liberty.

My water bill screams “No Clean Clothes.”  My legal fees scream

“No Car Maintenance.”

 

I heard that corporations patent ideas,

like medical procedures for our hearts

and things like that.

 

I saw an interview with a Native American and got

mad.

They want a good life

and it’s only going to come out of mine.

 

On the bus ride home from work.  I read a magazine

while squashed between two smelly men.  There are five

good Merlots under thirty bucks apiece.

 

The man on TV told me the economy’s the best in the world and

I’m a loser if I can’t buy that car and

I’m a loser if I can’t buy those clothes.

 

I’ll never see The White House or Congress.

The Dow was up today.

I’ll never go to Moscow.

Tipping’s twenty percent but the lottery’s higher tomorrow.

 

Sometimes I have a beer and feel a

fraction

like myself.

 

Christmas is coming soon.

Yesterday my girlfriend wanted something.

And my kid still wants that toy.

But condoms cost money.

And the free ones cost gas.

 

He asked yesterday when I would be home.  I haven’t played

with him for days.  I haven’t talked

with him for days.  But some things are more important, like food

and shelter

and those commercials.

 

And my parents are

in a dirty home, where people are paid

to nurse neglect,

slowly dying.

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CLOSE / Parnassiad:
Short Poems
Marketing Genius
Mr. Jones and Me
Dissemination: Penetration (Insemination)
“The South is a Story That Doesn’t Know It’s a Story Telling Stories”
Fuck Me in the Morning
Improper Usage
Sappho’s Frag. 31
And Still He Stands upon the Railroad Track
Quoth the Sadomasochist
One-Liners
CXXI in seq.
Buk's Bucks
Love Poem to Penelope
Mental Landscape, Virtually Conceived
Vespucci