Two Poems

By David LaBounty

 

A Feudal State

 

the TV is on
and you’re
reading a story
by Chekhov
and there
are peasants
and landowners
and the story
rings true
as you think
about your
paycheck, how
it is spent as
soon as it is
received
on an inflated
mortgage, on
the minivan
lease and on minimum
monthly payments
and true,

 

you are nobody’s serf,

 

but you have many,

 

many

 

masters.

 

 

Divinity, Words

 

she tells you
over a bowl
of generic cereal
that your writing
is a gift, a gift
from God and
she is pleading
with you because
a friend of
hers said

 

shame on you

 

if you don’t use that gift.

 

write a screenplay,
she says, you can
make us millionaires
if you would just
write a screenplay.

 

poetry,

 

you say, I write poetry,
people, for some reason,
like my

 

poetry.

 

I know, and people
can’t believe
that you write
poetry but how
much money
have you made
writing poetry?

 

you shrug your shoulders
and there is no
answer that can combat
millions of dollars
or gifts from God and you
think about the
other gifts from
God; your children,
your dirty white
collar career
the comfort
of your house
and beer
on a late
Saturday afternoon

 

not to mention

 

condoms and Viagra

 

and you think about
all those gifts as
if they were
unwrapped presents, especially
the condoms and Viagra
and you think they might
have something to do
with writing screenplays

 

letting you fuck all night

 

without feeling a thing.

Published April 2008