Skip to content →

The Denny’s was divided into spheres of influence

The Denny’s was divided

into spheres of influence,

but peace increasingly reminded me

of an atoll awaiting nuclear testing.

In the first sphere,

Satan was an orphan

peering in the bakery window.

In the second, tweens modeled

the unsexiest kind of love.

I ruled the smoking sector

because I was behind the wheel

of the minivan

that collapsed the entryway.

In the past, I’d been acclaimed

for my freelance warlording.

But now, covered in rubble,

my twitchy citizens

had grown only twitchier.

Treaty lines blocked

our access to pastries.

There’s still time to be young

and awake in a different music video

than you fell asleep in, I shouted.

But they take massive, reckless

property damage seriously

here in Pennsylvania.

Not even Satan’s sniveling

can change that.

I raised my hand

in query, in dissent

but the officers

were in a holiday mood.

Maybe you out there

have many questions also.

Perhaps you think starlight’s

some form of pity.

from Poetry Northwest 08.2 Fall & Winter 2013-2014More by Kyle McCord from the library

Copyright © Kyle McCord
Used with the permission of the author
on behalf of Poetry Northwest.

Published in Kyle McCord Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.