© 2007-2009 John Thornburg
From the upcoming book of poetry “Brillo Pads at Midnight”
Twenty Four Eight*
What if I need Brillo pads at midnight?
The sink looks like Hiroshima
and the air feels like a spider web sprayed with grease?
Thank heaven for 7-11.
Donuts at night; hot dogs in the morning,
and Brillo twenty-four seven.
Don’t need to comb my hair.
Don’t even need to wear a hat.
Day and night don’t matter there.
That’s good, ’cause I might need money.
The morning paper-mobile driver might stop
and demand cash.
Might need some Unguentine
or a Bud,
or some Tic-Tacs.
Twenty-four seven.
That’s my world.
The lights don’t go off.
You can get gas.
Deposit your check.
Drop the video in the slot.
CNN’s covering insecticides
and SUVs.
There’s a ball game from 1974 on.
And some preacher talking about eternal life.
Eternal life.
The preacher says it’s beyond this life.
God, that must mean it’s twenty-four eight.
© 2003 John Thornburg
*I thank the Dallas-based artist Pamela Nelson for this provocative image of eternal life.
What Can We Say But “Glory Be!”
In this church we call our home
Gracious Creator of Sea and of Land
Family of God, Formed from the Dust
Who is this Woman So Weak and Bent Over
Thank God for Those with Mason's Skill
A Choral Poem for the Opening of the Shower of Stoles
