Poetry | Dylan Loring

The Reviewer

Wears brass knuckles to the gym, steel knuckles
to the library.
                       Burns Jim’s book as tinder
as slander. Launches haymakers
every which way,
                             eyes closed all the time.
Wants gold knuckles for 50th anniversary
but must act quicker than that, nature
of job and all, nurture
                                    of evil and all.
Feels every action should lead to
a thoroughly unequal and opposite response.
                                                                        Responds to
cut-out-magazine-letter-threats with uppercuts.
Reminds senders of identity as Zodiac Killer.
Dictates
              to Apple Watch during arson, during sex, on
a motorcycle, helmet be damned.
Scours through mildew in shower
                                                       with standard sponge,
steel wool be damned, steel wool
personified. Knows many synonyms for kill, many more
for injure.
                 Thinks in ALL-CAPS, doesn’t think at all.
Thinks the wrong way, Thinks
                                                  but doesn’t remember,
leading to frustration. Revives darlings for painting nudes.
Enjoys sheet cake without iced words.
Dropkicks words,
eats cake, and fears germs,
                                            whether imagined or real.
Clocks-in at sunrise
for lethal injection conveyor belt duties at papermill.
Gets none of it
                         and gets all of it,
                                                     and immediately too.
Recycles too, except glass bottles. Needs bottles
for the subtle art of surprise
                                              head-smashing.

“The Reviewer” was presented at the North American Review Writing Conference April 21, 2019. It was published in The American Journal of Poetry.