Levi Rubeck is a poet and critic from Wyoming, though his day job is at MIT Press in Cambridge, MA. He was an editor at NYU's Washington Square Review, is a co-editor at the online journal Paperbag, and writes on games for Kill Screen. More info can be found at dangerhazzard.com.
I
At the foot of paradise
I think only
of the time I wasted
draining my pen
to the gurgle.
My co-pilots
brought pencils,
Russian cowboys
wrangling against
the future.
I heard they even
ground out any
love of cooking
they might have had
before the trip
so they wouldn’t
miss it.
They wait in line
to pray. They
could learn some things
from me, like
a proper pirouette
on the fuselage
or the tiny joy
in expensive things.
My money lines the hull
and it just burns me up.
II
Heaven's residents
have gone full-feral,
leaving me here to punch up
the season finale. I'm thinking:
sexy border patrol, plucked
chickens in sombreros
and grand wizard regalia,
enough to embarrass
the moldiest state-run rags
There's no action
in the bunny clouds of paradise.
It's why everyone reads
the first volume and moves on.
Suffice to say I'm unimpressed
with the security and the spread.
Thirsty years mostly remembered
is a fair bit of living.
even without the cuts
and the fratricide.
So roll back the tape
and let me off at the recap.