Rachel M Simon
Liquidation Sale
You will reach a lifepoint
when the pictured collars
of thirty years ago
evoke a warm ketchup feeling, not a
what were they thinking? electrode.
We’re all dying, all pulling
our laces so tight, later
you will have red line evidence
on your bare feet
sliding under the untucked.
In olympic diving the goal
is to make a splash much smaller
than my olive propelled
from toothpick to gin.
Ties are just stain magnets afterall.
Every seven years you have
an entirely new body.
Each cell free of the crap
of shitty 1998. In nine years
you’ll have the same bad habits.
Around age thirty
you’ll talk freely about
your STD history.
If you have kids you’ll talk
poo and movie ratings.
Who do you have to know
to die painlessly in your sleep?
Rumor has it the afterlife menu
is bland, go ahead
ride the motorcycle.
Arthritis, shingles, eyelash curler,
hemorrhoids, hair loss, hangnail
depilatory, puberty, osteoporosis,
mowing the lawn, short term,
long term memory loss
Everything
must
go.
When You’re Not Allowed to Daydream
One can live for years not knowing the teaspoon is inaccurate. Call the bureau of weights and measures. They’ll understand. In massage school I learned to rub a full belly in a clockwise motion to aid in digestion. In the theory of orange, what is the best way to skin a grape? The citrus board feels strongly about the marketing campaign’s mouth sores. Cracking a stranger’s knuckles will not necessarily lead to mold under the nails. A Yogi can get away with that posture. I know to slouch is not the answer, yet all these crazy and abusive men never have a shortage of wives. No, I never could touch my toes. The irony doesn’t end there. I kill bugs with my palm. If I had that many legs I wouldn’t waste my time on some mediocre ceiling. When I fly I never dress for the occasion. When I land you can appreciate the thud. Just keep running, the parasail will take care of you. If the wind deposits you in a gift shop it is only appropriate to buy one moderately priced tchotchke.
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