Poetry
This Just In
false leads abounded today
as investigators sought to recover
lost destinies
from the societal pyre
rumor has it
these destinies were last seen
dancing around an immense bonfire
wildly— as if infected
with some medieval disease
some claimed
these allegorical figures
sought their own demise
they felt weary
one observer theorized
of their own conventions—
no matter how nonconformist
they were deigned to be
by onlookers
from the perspective
of the personifications themselves
they barely felt as if they were
well
persons
film and television producers
are working feverishly in co-operation
with pop psychologists and New Age mesmerists
in order to dream up new stories
for these destinies to inhabit
without a place to live
the authorities fear
the notion of vocation
will be lost forever
or at the very least
consigned to the same historical zoos
that house other ideas
which have devolved
to the status of
exotic curiosities
in danger of extinction
"if people no longer feel
they are born to do something,"
one talk show commentator commented
"notions of personal responsibility
are liable to disappear—
next thing you know
they’ll be looking for a handout"
It Was the Night Before Monday
by Jerome Sala
and a good thing too
because if the weekend went on any longer
the populace was in danger of the overwork
it took to have a good time
you could feel the relief in the night air
in every restaurant
around every TV screen
among the crowds pouring out of the
Sunday night features
leaving the parks
or in the minds of those obstinate individuals
visiting a last site at their keyboards
you could hear the chatter
arising into the atmosphere like a swarm
people excitedly planning
how they would spend their morning
relaxing in front of a column of figures
or obeying the kind machines that
urged them forward
at a more human pace
than the cruel bosses
of the leisure industry
and among those who were tired
(and there were many)
of risking their lives
in order to enjoy them
voices began to cry out
and demand revolutionary action—
some called for a longer work week
supported by a leisure strike
so that the oppression known as entertainment
could be retired forever
Contributor
Jerome SalaJerome Sala’s latest book of poetry is Corporations Are People, Too! (NYQ Books). Previous collections include The Cheapskates Look Slimmer Instantly and Prom Night, a collaboration with artist Tamara Gonzales.
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Alina Stefanescu was born in Romania and lives in Birmingham, Alabama with her partner and several intense mammals. Recent books include a creative nonfiction chapbook, Ribald (Bull City Press Inch Series, Nov. 2020) and Dor, which won the Wandering Aengus Press Prize (September, 2021). Her debut fiction collection, Every Mask I Tried On, won the Brighthorse Books Prize (April 2018). Alina's poems, essays, and fiction can be found in Prairie Schooner, North American Review, World Literature Today, Pleiades, Poetry, BOMB, Crab Creek Review, and others. She serves as poetry editor for several journals, reviewer and critic for others, and Co-Director of PEN America's Birmingham Chapter. She is currently working on a novel-like creature. More online at www.alinastefanescuwriter.com.