little beige spider
hanging on the
bathroom wall
some would
smash you
into paste
without a
thought
well, some like
total war
and the
Olive Garden
and plates with
pictures of
the Popes
on them
and talking
about juices
and what new
program
they’ve just
started
and they can:
that’s cool,
okay
me and you, though,
let’s just hang
here
peaceful
and
assured
and keep an eye
on things
went down to get a
six-pack at the bar
a little while
ago and
there was a huge
fat guy sitting
in the corner
on a stool
chirping to himself
big fleshy triangular
guy
sitting there
like a
mushroom
chirping away
among all the
town guys
and hairspray
chicks
I got my six
said words to
the bartender
paid
and walked toward the
door
as I pushed it open
I heard the mushroom
shriek “HEY! YOU KNOW WHO
LED THE PHILLIES IN
STEALS IN ’91?”
and I thought:
thank god for
home and for my
front door key
that works
there isn’t enough
booze in that bar
to make that guy
tolerable
and besides
I can’t stand
mushrooms:
sauteed, steamed,
or shrieking
what it is
is
weight:
everything you do or
think
every part of you
has
an anchor
lashed to it
there’s no time to
consider what
might work best
or where you
might be most
useful
or whether or not it’s
time finally to
start thinking
about doing your own
thing
now that you’ve
tried everything else
there’s just weight
hanging on you
keeping your moves
constricted
to the next day
the next week
small steps that
don’t add up
to
anything of note
who cares about
your ideas? they’re vapor
tissue
ash piled high and
stinking
in
the rain
what matters is
your bus pass
the rent
the basic accoutrements of
basic life:
still
more
weight
you’re lying there
eyes open
in the dark
another day of
mild terror behind
you
finally
lying there
trying to
breathe
like Giles Corey
under the board
man, I said to the
cat, just look
at you,
you don’t do anything,
just lay
around scratching and
sighing and
following me to
the kitchen so
that you can get
even
fatter
you hairy little
mung fucker, I
said, you just lay
there
curled up and
snoring
occasionally your
ears twitch
and that’s going to be
about it,
too, I
said,
until later tonight
when I’m getting ready
for
bed
and you start mewling and
pawing the
window screen
and pacing
because you can smell all
the life out there
and you want to
end it
you want to strike
while the iron’s cold
and in between you
lay back
feed and scratch
and laze and
pay no
attention:
the world’s
just noise
coming through a
screen
now that I think
about it
that makes a lot
of sense
move over
you wake up with
optimism
had a good dream
a funny
dream
about some random
person wanting you to be a
character witness
in their
tax
trial
up until three sending
out resumes
and cover letters
each one different
carefully crafted for that
particular job;
you’ve learned you shouldn’t
use boilerplate prose
you need a different letter
for each job
and you’re okay
with that
come out into the world
pour a coffee
thinking: okay, maybe
the light on the
phone
will be
blinking blue
maybe there’s already a
response and
it’s a good one
you’re not looking for
much: twenty hours a
week, maybe
three or four hundred
bucks
you’ve got plans for your
free time
you need more knowledge
and that’s okay
too
just need enough to
keep you in
hot dogs and
salad and
beer
for the summer
the rest will
take care of
itself
you sit down with the
coffee and the light
is blinking blue
and for a second you
start thinking wildly about
interviews and
questions and whether or
not your suit’s
clean
just for a second
until you pull up the
message:
no, thanks,
it says,
we’ve gone in
another direction
we wish you
the best
you slump back
against the couch
stare at the ceiling
weren’t things supposed to
be different now, after
all that time and
money?
you’re not looking for
a career yet
some place to spend eight years
getting more and more
entrenched
twenty hours a week
and a few hundred bucks
the windows are
open and you
sneeze
and then the rain starts
falling
and you think:
another day
another disappointment
not much money in
the account
and there are bills yet
to be paid
at least the
cat’s happy
lying there in the middle
of the
floor
twitching his
tail
the little
fucker
The Latency 