6
Three Poems by micheal gushue & cl bledsoe
Don’t Forget to Turn Your Clocks Back to a Time
that Never Existed
1.
All the clocks disagree, but I can't hear
them over the scream of the water,
the couch, this woman I found wandering
desolation row. She's not my mother,
I'm almost certain. That makes her someone
else's problem. Do you understand? No one
ever saved me, so why should I save
them? It would be hard to live a life
in which things mattered. Where
would I shop? Without lines in the road,
where would I aim my car?
2.
When the aliens come, I will offer them
scones. Blueberry. Or maybe some other
color berry. Then, when they're lulled
into polite chewing, I'll hit them
with my plan: we fly to Vegas,
disguised as coral, drink from every
damn fountain they have there, run up
a tab at the four-story Denny’s,
get married as Mr. and Mrs. Zircon.
It’s perfect. It’s so crazy it just might work.
3.
I don't eat anything with a face, which is how
The clocks in my inefficiency apartment survive.
I wanted a clock that told the space-time.
But The Sharper Image only had wristwatches
that were jet skis and humidors and one night stands.
That’s why “consumer goods” is an oxymoron.
Everything you buy is bad for you. You don’t own
Mrs. Robinson. Mrs. Robinson owns you.