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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Hands that Hurt” Down in the Dirt, v145 (the May 2017 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book Random Thoughts the Down in the Dirt July-Dec. 2016 collection book		get the 418 page May-August 2017 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book Negative Space (the 2017 poetry, flash fiction & art collection anthology)		get the 298 page poem, flash fiction & art collection anthology as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Paradise Is Demanding

David Lohrey

It must be thrilling to know everything.
Girls used to be so full of doubt but now they say,
Sure I’m sure.
I say 1970, she says Nixon bombed Cambodia.
Everything’s a Kellogg’s slogan.

The bodies, you cry. The dead bodies in the lobby.
Why can’t I reply, my mother’s violets in the window box
remind me of tiny flamethrowers.
The poor don’t need money. It’s the rich who are always short.

Everywhere I go, I’m an unknown quantity.
Why do you invade my territory?
They bring me hot dogs when I order origami.
In China they begged me to stay, but here, when will you leave?

Don’t ask, how are you? It’s an intimate question.
I think it’s privacy and so do you, but here it’s a matter of public policy.
Infants wear reading glasses to mommy and baby English classes.
You are in another country

Where students dance into class wearing chiffon tutus.
They hide their hair in green.
One student’s yellow toenails match his glasses;
Another’s braces are as clear as her crystal bracelet.

On trains, the girls don’t keep their legs together. One sees
bandaged knees and little hands spreading skin cream.
The Santa Barbara coffee shop in Roppongi brews no coffee;
it serves poached eggs on a bed of lettuce.

Paradise is demanding.
The bodies pile up in my Adam’s apple.
My daughter’s into cranes and pandas.
Are we punished for ignoring corpses?

I want my teddy bear.
Can’t I like pandas, too?
Thou shalt not kill.
Is that not enough?

The busker asks for what’s left over.
Must I share?
I have lots to spare but none for you.
Why can’t I say that?

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