China Syndrome X

I’m not like those beech leaves

that hang on the tree all

winter.

I won’t clog a storm

drain when the wind and rain

finally knock me loose.

I’ll let the wind blow me off

to China.

I’ll learn the language and see

the sights.

They say the China

they showed us in school no

longer looks that way.

I plug single letters in my

Facebook

and scroll through X’s daring

them to show me some

porn.

Instead I find name after

Chinese name,

some living right here in town.

So I won’t go to China.

I’m already there.

I’ll go to the moon instead.

I’ll go to Mars

and the bottom of the sea.

I’ll stay here

and find out what it’s like.

Monday

The water is warm and calm

and I’m about to get in

when Em says Thomas is

coming over tonight.

I say I expect him to.

After we eat we’ll go to

the basement where I set up

the DVDs like it’s an old-

fashioned video store:

covers standing against

the backs of the shelves.

It’s Matt Diamond night

and I’ve already picked

out one of his best:

“Waterfront Archangel.”

Em makes shark-fin

soup and Captain Cut

cod loin –all lean and

rubbery the way I

like it. Thomas gives his

to the cat. Sometimes

I wonder about Thomas.

I lean over and pick up

a hunk and put it back on

his plate. And finish

your broccoli. See that green?

When it’s green like

that that means it’s crispy.

Performance Review

They say I spend two hours

sharpening, ten minutes

cutting and three days mopping.

And I’m having bad dreams.

Where I see dead people.

And my assistant says I kiss

some of them and insist

they smile and sometimes

I even make them pull the chain.

They think that’s cruel if not

unusual. They want me to

act all shameful as if I deserve

what’s coming. I might be

interested to know they take

pity on some who’ve done

worse but they’ve decided to

make an example of me in

case others start getting ideas.

They hope I understand.

Well cheers. I mean cheese.