Two Poems by Steve Lewis

I Try To Think Of Other, Things But Always Think of the Same Thing

In the morning I was worried that I wouldn't be a multimillionaire
and that I wouldn't live in a rich suburb outside a poor city
and I wouldn't have enough people to sleep with when I wasn't busy making
more money.
I worried that I would have college degrees and still work at Quizno's.
I have become so great at making sandwiches, I can't get a better job.
The only other thing I will be able to do is get another, equally shitty
job
and come home at night and feel fucked and watch TV.

Later in the afternoon, I felt fucked while watching TV. I thought about
the future
when I'll be a multimillionaire.
I would look back and feel disgusted at my old self,
but also feel good because I wasn't making sandwiches anymore.
Then I would go into Subway and tell the workers I don't need a sandwich,
I'm too rich to eat there, but don't worry, one day they may be as rich
as I am.
I would buy a bag of sunchips and pay for it with a fifty dollar bill.
I would feel superior to the workers, but I would feel sad also
because they as great weren't me.

At night I was reading this and thought I was being smart,
not with intelligence,
but like a smart ass.
I felt like a liar, because I felt fine in the morning. I was not
worried like I said.
Now the streetlight is bright outside my window and I feel like vomiting.
I want to coat streetlights in vomit
so the whole town is dark and smells like partially digested spinach and
carrots.
I want to approach people on the street
and ask them exactly what the hell they think they are doing.
I want to hijack a best buy truck and sell the electronics at a
discounted price,
so people are happy but I still get rich,
then quit my job,
invest in stocks recommended by a top accountant
and become a multimillionaire.

I Am Masculine and Will Punch People To Prove It

Last time I saw my mom, she said I was getting skinny.
I told her I was poor.
She told me skinny, like a girl.
I left her house and drove away.

I'm not a girl. I walked into Community Bank and punched the teller in
the head.
I stole money from her by threatening to punch again.
With the money, I started a township called Eat Shit, New Mexico."
I started an NFL team called the Eat Shit Lumberjacks and changed my
quarterback's name to Paul Babypunch.

I cut the sleeves of all my t-shirts and drank Budweiser.
I got a job at McDonalds and stole hamburgers.
I would eat a hamburger, do fifty push-ups, then punch a co-worker in the
jaw.
I ripped the sleeves off my work uniform.

People I didn't like, I would pass them on the sidewalk and push their
head so hard so they fell down.
Next time I saw my mom,
she answered the door and I flexed my muscles and punched her in the
face.

About the author:
Stephen Lewis lives and works in Lawrence, KS. This is his first publication.