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Yesterday, the microwave arced twice like a box of lightning
then ceased to be. Someone (I’m not naming
names here) left a spoon in the Cheez Whiz jar.
I don’t like plain natchos, even with salsa.
Today, stumbling between Springsteen and Manfred Man
over the line ‘wrapped up like a deuce’ I discovered
the verbal fiat is largely a matter of tone.
This explains a few things. Prayer, for instance.
Why it doesn’t work in the form of a question.
That’s deep, I think, ‘I think therefore I am’
shit deep. And yes, my first thought
was to curse little Sherry Prokopf, who told
me in grade six that if I showed her
my willie she’d show me her uvula,
but she’s still doing weather on channel ten.
No such luck. Still, I’ve seen my share
of stop-motion-animation matinees and I know
from Tales of Suspense that a wish gone wrong,
horribly wrong, is always about poor planning.
It’s all about choosing the right words,
the ones that lead to infinite wealth and celebrity
and that silver Corvette Stingray that I wanted
when I was fourteen. All that stuff. But I’m still here
scratching whatever this metallic crap is
off lottery ticket after lottery ticket
in front of the tube on another glamorous Friday night.
I’m not sure why, but I think maybe it’s that depth
I can’t get back. Maybe there’s more to it than tone.
Not just wanting or imagining either, or even thinking
but something like forgetting to think or failing
to imagine that the Corvette’s outside, but failing
so bad that for a moment you forget it’s not
and you go to the window to remind yourself
that it’s sleek and silver and there. Something
that sinks down inside and releases the inner
dumb guy and before too long he’s humming
off-kilter and getting all the words wrong
because he’s not thinking about words.
They’re sounds put together in a way that makes him happy.
And that’s when maybe he hits that tone
and something changes, though I don’t know what
and I couldn’t control it anyway. It’s a theory.
I’ll keep trying, though, partly because I know
I’m close to something big, but mostly
because I really like that song.
by Chris Jennings
from: Vacancies, ©2003
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