Written by Shahzaib Khan
“what is all this?” he asks, reading aloud a headline
from the grocery store’s newspaper rack.
now, how do i explain the new age to an old man?
i deliberate for a few seconds.
should i tell him about metallic apes?
would he be happy to learn about skateboards in space?
would he shake his head and ask if it was baked?
i notice he’s wearing a crucifix,
hanging around his neck
like the rings around jupiter (i’ve gotta skate on those later).
i wonder if he knows that the sabbath day is now unholy,
it’s spent in bars and jesus is a drunken story.
does he know that there’s no ark coming to save him?
job has embraced his misery and caine’s victory is
celebrated. apollo crashes trailer trash weddings and
spends his lunch break scrolling through reddit,
aphrodite has a bounty on doctor miami,
man, i’m so hungry.
maybe i shouldn’t converse with him?
i prefer aliens over dinosaurs.
i don’t want to be his asteroid,
wiping out his before and bringing in the tomorrow.
fuck this, i just wanted to buy some chips.
“it’s a messed-up world, man.”
he says something back.
i’m no longer listening –
i turn around and reach for a bag of chips,
leaving a space between us, not quite as big
as yesterday’s continental drift.
i wonder if he knows about it.
