Issue
#2

March
2009 

a poem by Jason Ryberg

UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

Seems like nothing productive
ever gets done on days like today
(not without an uphill battle, anyway),
here in this Any Ugly Cow Town, USA;
mid-July, no wind and 97-plus degrees
in the shade and God's murder-red
eye cocked and burning at us
in such a way as to suggest he's been
having second thoughts about
the human race (if not all of creation).
Meanwhile, cars continue to zoom
their fleshy, semi-sentient contents
from one climate-controlled environment
to another, buses barrel and bounce along
on fluffy clouds of diesel fumes and pedestrians
do the heat stroke zombie shuffle up and
down the street, hoping to find that one
retail purchase that puts it all into perspective.
In other words, nothing much is happening
(at least not in the immediate vicinity
of yours truly), certainly no sexual
or romantic intrigue to speak of,
no unforeseen meeting of great minds,
no major contributions to, or advancements
of, the arts and/or sciences on our part
(those of us who've somehow managed to find
ourselves (and each other) in this mercifully cool,
night-dark bar in the middle of the afternoon).
Probably safe to assume (so we might as well
get used to it); until further notice,
there will, most likely, be no retying the knot
that should have been left untouched,
no putting the fallen baby bird of our lives
back in its nest.

© Jason Ryberg

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