Bad Poetry Monday

Rant for the Modern Man

Good Morning and Good Monday all you Cool Cats and Hot Kittens!

It’s a new day, new week. Let’s get ‘er done.

There are days (and nights) I must admit I just want the world to slow down. I don’t want it to stop. That would be catastrophic and we’d all be tossed into deep space. So not that. Just slow down the way traffic does in a school zone. Less phone calls, less demands to do this and that, go here and there, just…tap the brakes. Slow down and make the morning last. You know what I mean? Have a quiet cup of coffee without TV, radio, or news. Without talking, without really thinking. Just sipping and being.

Now, I’m all about getting things done that need getting done but when the demands of the world come flying at you faster than a supersonic jet and your hair is on fire, it’s time to step back and reassess what the heck is happening here?

Ergo, the genesis of today’s bad poem. A rant for this crazy, mad world—due to some of our own making—and some by those crazy “other” fools out there.

Take a deep breath. Enjoy the moment and your day and have a great one!

RANT FOR THE MODERN MAN

By ZJ Cuzpor

Let’s just call this what it is--a rant

‘bout how I can’t keep up in a 24/7 world.

A world that demands a response NOW!

Not later, mind you, but NOW!

News flash: Your NOW! is not my NOW!

Unless you’re paying me to respond to your NOW!

In which case, I’ll get right back to you,

Soon as I finagle this 800-word article

‘bout some ramshackle hodgepodge for a magazine

That no one gets or “gets,” if you catch my drift.

But, hey it pays the light bill.

Then I hear a plea from the next room,

“Hey honey! The dog has loose bowels again.

She let go on our newly steam-cleaned carpet.

Can you clean that up? NOW!

Oh, and by the way, your sister will be here in fifteen.”

And there we go...

A new NOW! needs my full undivided attention,

Now, all my other NOWS! are backed up,

Backed up in a long queue of NOWS!

Like rusty Volkswagens and shiny Corvettes,

Idling and purring on the Ventura Highway

Going nowhere.

I’d love to be idling and purring.

Me thinks I need a stiff drink. NOW!

Later all my NOWS! are cantering for attention,

In a random fashion, “Pick me. Pick me!”

I take a deep breath and refocus on my personal NOWS!

Like the Great American Novel in wait of editing

Like the other novel needing an ending –

Just another 100 pages and I’m there,

Like the short story crying to appear on my blog

‘bout a log named Og who floats in a fog gets

Caught in a bog but the storyline takes a jog and

The cog in my brain is cooked like shish kabob.

Meanwhile, me and the clock on the wall are ticked off.

It’s past two a.m. I’m fried and cranky. Not thinking straight.

I haul my brain and limbs and jumble of ideas into bed,

Where I steal a few minutes to finish reading,

So as to beat the library’s due deadline,

For One Hundred Years of Solitude

So, I don’t get fined, arrested, and have my credit report ripped to shreds,

By some bun-wearing bureaucrat wielding a rubber stamp

Like the Statue of Liberty over my tired, poor, and massive

headachy head that now can’t sleep,

Cuz I’m replaying in my brain

All the NOWS! lined up in my 24/7 world.

The next morning blends together

Like some long-drawn-out Ginsbergy poem

Where periods have taken hiatus or gone on strike

Just to punctuate a point. Over what?

There is no day and night in this mad, mad 24/7 world,

where everyone NOW! expects you to jump, respond,

act, answer, solve, pontificate, blog, tweet, or toot

something coherent in this supersonic demanding world.

So, I escape the machine.

I trundle to a coffee shop for a new vibe

To sit and sip burnt, bitter, black coffee,

Where bright ladies in red lipstick

And tight black yoga pants,

And young girls with tattoos on their ankles,

Saunter in and out ordering strange concoctions of caf and decaf,

all vying for attention and getting it NOW!

Everybody is abuzz in my 24/7 world,

No one stops NOW! or bothers to ask,

“How are you, friend?”

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