The Marbled Sigh

Editorial

I still
can’t believe
I don’t
work there
anymore.

Twenty-five
years
editing America’s
up-and-comers.

Walked out
the door
like a delivery man
who wouldn’t stop rambling.

Sure things
didn’t
pan out.

Risky properties
never found
their audience.

Young guns
down the hall
grasped trends,
snatched hot properties.

At sixty
there is no
going back.
But the
next stop
shouldn’t
be the
register at
Walgreens.

I will not
volunteer
at the library.

I will not
join
a committee
to free
Sudanese poets.

I will sit
at home,
read
old issues
of Playboy.
The interview
with the Druze leader
slaughtered by
a car bomb.
The photos
of the
dark haired
beauty
who married
the six million
dollar man.

I will
drink my
lunch.
Walk the
streets
babbling of
Smiley and
Franzen.

I will
hit the
mattress
at nine,
and sleep
a full
twelve hours,
dreaming
of my
office,
my overburdened
desk,
and the
manuscript on
top of
my pile.

---

John Attanas is a student in the MFA program at City College. He has recently returned to writing poetry after a long absence writing plays and novels. He currently teaches English at Nassau Community College.