Larry Crist

PINE BOX DERBY

Another cruel indignity foisted upon me this time through cub scouts
my pine box racer
they all look the same out of the box
mine remained the same
until the day before the big race
when i remembered i was supposed to do something to it
I sanded down the edges some
and painted it black
flat black
the kind they use in theatres to make things disappear

My mother attended race night with me
the only single mother in a sea of mothers and fathers
but mostly fathers
fathers with power tools and sanders and high gloss paint
and, perhaps allowing their sons to touch their racers for the first time
each boy placed his racer on the wooden downward track

I lined mine up among the others
many of which had decals and numbers to distinguish them
Mine, however, did not require any such superficiality
it stood there like a crow among peacocks
an Edsel among Porsches
like a guilty man among the innocent

The gate rose and these little cars
succumbed to gravity and aerodynamics
and greased wheels and
well
mine was out in the first round
There was no prize for originality
or minimalism
I took my racer from the track
I wanted to light it on fire and send it
down a dark San Franciscan hill
I didn’t though
I don’t remember what i did with it
now to forget the rest as easily

—from Rattle #21, Summer 2004

Larry Crist

LAST DAY ON EARTH

On this the last day on earth
I bathe, wash my hair, clean my nails
shave with a new blade

I dress because there’s a chill in the air
put on that nice silky Hawaiian shirt
Make coffee and use my favorite mug
Van Gogh Starry nights the one with the little chip on the lip

I do all the things I normally do
try and pay attention to each task
without thinking, gee, I won’t be doing this anymore
That could drive me crazy before this day is done

I’d spend even more time staring out the window
and looking at the sky than usual
I’d gaze at my car from the porch
It will be crazy on the roads today

With my third cup of coffee I add a shot
finishing that single malt I’d been saving
I smoke that bud I’ve had around for a while too
Then perhaps eat that Viagra someone gave me that I’ve had forever
but was afraid of
that: erection over four hours see your physician…warning
I could never tell if that’s for real or just advertising
anyway, what can I lose today?

I’d make love to my wife
I’d try and take my time
but probably wouldn’t exceed four hours
With the time left over I’d spread out all my favorite porn mags
and hold a contest as to my very favorite

I’d already have made us a nice breakfast
with my special crispy potatoes and perfect overeasy eggs
and we’d eat them on the porch
along with a tall bloody mary
while listening to Frank Sinatra
and perhaps dance a couple turns
I’d probably want to write a poem
but would resist this impulse

We’d talk of course but it’d be a vastly different kind of discussion
None of that, when are you going to get a job kind of stuff
or could you clean out the garage or is tonight recycling?
or the house sure is getting dirty kind of talk
We wouldn’t discuss “the relationship”
We’d be on to more personal metaphysical digressions
during which I’d probably make another cocktail
while she clutched the cat and we’d both cry and maybe she’d
get her guitar and play that song she’s never really played for me

She’d want to call her mother
and I’d want to check emails and open one last day of mail
but nothing would have come and it wouldn’t matter if it did
And I’d pull her off the phone, smash it
beside where I had already smashed the clock and television
And we’d discuss how we should have gotten together with so and so
one last time, deciding it would have been too painful
on this the last day

We’d continue, sitting together
taking turns holding the cat, holding each other
sharing bits of conversation, listening to our
favorite tunes and discussing what to do for dinner
and I’d go make us martinis instead with lots of olives
while our eyes continued trained on the sky
watching it get dark
waiting for the end together
waiting for it both alone

—from Rattle #31, Summer 2009