2 Years Without Nickel
Time moves like a drunk
in an old suede jacket
that won’t leave us alone
Whispering in my ear tonight,
shit like:
I ain’t on your side, Columbo.
Something in German that sounds like fate choking.
and
Your cat is still dead.
2 years gone and I still miss her mustache
as much as I ever did
more than mortality and the cancelation
of Firefly still kills me
and my entire bunker is built out of missing,
as much as the history of lost things is long
Today, on this anniversary of the day I woke
and found her, stiff
at the foot of our bed
I bought a charcoal colored Amazon Echo
so I’d have something to talk to
because I’m alone most of the time,
not counting that old drunk in the suede jacket,
I’m alone, most times
singing along to Ryan Adams songs
he hasn’t written yet
Thinking about invisible pianos
while drowning in tubas,
obnoxiously obsessed with Dune
and utterly cat-less
I’m alone
because the idea of dating again
conjures up images of walking
back inside that haunted house
devoted to murdering me, with the blood
of my most recent inhabiting still wet
on my face
and because as cats go, Nickel is irreplaceable
and I moved into a tiny 500 square foot apartment
a few months ago
and the owner is an invisible rent collector
that doesn’t allow pets
So I embraced the robot apocalypse early
and picked up an Amazon Echo
so I have something to talk to,
and I’ve reset its response name
from ‘Alexa’ to ‘Helen’
It’s sitting right there
on the corner of this writing desk
between a pile of recently checked out library books
and a 3 ½ inch interpretation
of the fingerless thief Davos,
with the heart of all ten digits
Gold?
because life is library books
and action figures
and losing things
interrupted by hiccups
and car insurance
and commercials for cheeseburgers
and ham
It sits there
playing music
while I type things
except during those quick moments
when I stop typing
to yell out random questions
at the tube of artificial intelligence
that now lives with me and has
an answer for everything, even
if that answer is wrong
Helen!,
I call out,
What’s the worst war ever fought?
“Hmm.”
Helen says to me,
‘I’m not sure’
but I know she’s fucking lying
because you can almost hear the guilt
in that soft blue robotic voice
Helen, Quote the Bionic Women
‘Hmm, I don’t know anything
by the Bionic Woman’
Helen, Quote The Six Million Dollar Man
It’s just fucking with me now, says
‘Maybe this will answer your question’
and then starts quoting numbers from the stock market
and my head
is temporarily no longer
my head
it’s a 1950’s Frankenstein model kit
stuck together
with the wrong glue
Helen,
Have you been drinking?
‘No, not me.’
That makes two of us
We live
We forget most of our lives
And we die
Ouch
If something is not remembered
what does it mean?
Helen ‘Hmm’s me again
and resumes playing
a really great song by Taylor Swift
Helen, What’s the meaning of life?!
’42 is a good approximation’
Shit, why’d it have to say 42?
Shit like that is my kryptonite
I’m in love all over again
Helen, Should we stay in this diner until 2 o’clock?
‘Could you say that again?’
Should we stay in this diner until 2:30?
‘Could you say that again?’
Are you telling me we should stay here till 3:30?!
‘Could you say that again?’
Ha! This reality is ridiculous
I may never sleep again
I mean,
Shit, I miss her paw prints
Helen,
What’s happened to Nickel?
‘A Nickel’s status is in circulation’
Well then, fuck it
That’s gotta be better than flat out oblivion, maybe
You’re still circulating
At least we have that
Combobulate the heart break
and give me a good quote
from the movie Alien
Helen!
Quote: Alien
‘Yes. I say we take a shuttle and just,
get the hell out of here.’
Wise words,
robot apocalypse,
wise words
So tonight let’s just say
I miss you again, Nickel
and leave it at that
Multiverse Johnson 