Ron Riekki

Climb It

And if the sun comes
into the center of this city,
and heats us to hell,

we’ll smoke cigarettes
and pot to get us over
this hill, into a deeper

theater of heat, one where
we get to forget what we’ve
done, maybe drive across

the country to vacate
our problems, and go on
a shopping spree, getting

everything shipped for free
to the wrong address, but,
no problem, we’ll get it

resent, no anger or resentment
at the sweat pouring down
like rain. And isn’t it funny?

No rain in a month? I think
I’ll get as high as the temp
outside, cook up some ham-

burgers on the grill, light
some incense and turn on Fox—
April showers bring May droughts—

I click the channel and watch
black men box; the violence
takes me away from my thoughts.

-iness

Sweet is it, sweet is it
Not poetry of witness, but poetry of whiteness,
Sweet is it, sweet is it
Poetry of shit lists, poetry of unkindness,
Sweet is it, sweet is it
Poetry of pro-coal biz, poetry of anti-Colbert,
Sweet is it, sweet is it
“Truthiness” is named Word of the Year!
Sweet is it, sweet is it
Poetry of James Frey, poetry of omission,
Sweet is it, sweet is it
Poetry of white lies, poetry of disguise,
Sweet is it, sweet is it
Poverty of children, poverty of billions,
Sweet is it, sweet is it
O, to be resigned! O, to pretend to be blind!