McOrmond - The Good News About Armageddon

THE GOOD NEWS
ABOUT ARMAGEDDON

THE GOOD NEWS
ABOUT ARMAGEDDON

Steve McOrmond

Brick Books

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

McOrmond, Steve, 1971
The good news about Armageddon / Steve McOrmond.

Poems.
ISBN 978-1-894078-83-2

I. Title.

PS8575.O74G66 2010 C811.54 C2009-907387-0

Copyright Steve McOrmond, 2010

We acknowledge the Canada Council for the Arts, the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), and the Ontario Arts Council for their support of our publishing program.

The cover image is a photograph called Retro Television taken by
Shaun Lowe.

The author photograph was taken by Brad Marlin.

The book is set in Minion and Rotis.

Design and layout by Alan Siu.

Printed and bound by Sunville Printco Inc.

Brick Books
431 Boler Road, Box 20081
London, Ontario N6K 4G6

www.brickbooks.ca

For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking,
marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark;
and they knew nothing about what would happen
until the flood came and took them all away.

Matthew 24:38-39

Come in. Be lost. Be still.
If you miss us at home
well be on our way to the reckoning.

C.D. Wright

Contents

1.0 The following program contains language and brief sexuality which some may find disturbing.

1.1 The following program may contain graphic content relevant to the development of character or to the advancement of the theme or plot.

1.2 Womens bare breasts; mans bare buttocks.

1.3 The following program may invite dangerous imitation, such as the use of plastic bags as playthings, or unsafe physical acts, such as climbing apartment balconies.

1.4 The following program may contain realistic scenes of violence which create the impression that violence is the preferred or only method to resolve conflict. The audience is advised to follow its programming.

1.5 People smoke. People snort drugs. Someone drowns.

1.6 The following program may contain domestic and civil disorders, scenes of destruction and accident. A coarse audience is intended.

1.7 The following program may deal casually with themes which could threaten the viewers sense of security; e.g., the death or injury of parents, close relatives or pets.

1.8 Evidence of fatalism and irreligion; excessive special effects not required by the storyline.

1.9 The following program may contain scenes not suitable for language. The audience may contain violence not intended by the program.

2.0 People are assaulted; fighting; gunplay. Several car crashes; a fatal animal attack.

2.1 Objectionable words and phrases: Approx. 50.

Young woman delivering the word
door to door: I was lonely, invited you in.

The time being short, we mustnt waste it,
drop of semen, speck of dust. Yada-yada.

My fathers tanned arm out the car window, his hand
cupping the rush of cool air, then letting it go.

I have never met an angel, but I imagine
their wings under clothes, hymenopterous.

Here, my lucky number, sit a spell.
It will take awhile for the wave to reach us.

Up early, Im at the computer,
the black cat on my lap, pressing the keys

with his toothy snout. These days
everyone has a novel in them.

We stayed out late last night,
me and my shadow. Our cups ranneth over.

Like Lazarus, I am risen. Grateful
and a little ashamed: what have I done

to deserve this day? The cat also
at a loss for words.

Old man, telling anyone who will listen
how you found Jesus, havent

touched a drink in years, what makes you think
Id want to be born again? Forgive me, Father,

Ive watched too many wars, surfing between
car bombs and the canned laughter of a sitcom.

Who will man-up and take responsibility
for this moment, its casualties? Anyone? Anyone?

Its not the live footage but whats left,
the darkness outside the frame.

Let the record show the accused cant recall
the last time he did a good deed. Duly noted.

As seen on TV, the presidents limousine
moves only as fast as a man can walk.

My room is small, stale
with cigarettes. Yes, Ive started again.

Death by cancer seems remote,
like worrying over a paper cut.

Behind the barricades, patriots
waving their stumps and hooks.

We come in from the citys rim: horse pasture
usurped by cul-de-sacs.

Walk left, stand right, please
use all available doors.

At this hour, we are
brain stems and meat.

North of here stood Finchs inn, The Bird in the Hand.
A travelling circus performed on the grounds.

Newspapers are ill at ease, falcons tethered to our fists.
Arabic, Cyrillic, Simplified Chinese.

Were all anonymous here.
Everyone has scuffed shoes.

Viagra, megaton, karoshi how marvellous
the words my century has made.

My bad. I should learn to chill out
with a mochaccino, rightsize my rage.

Careful, the beverage youre about
to enjoy is extremely hot.

Love, Ive given up on nearly everything
black villages, 24-7, Taliban, TTYL.

Stay until the lights go out. Not if but when.

Why this Iraqi, this smart-bombed home?
A mind ill-equipped for multitudes.

River of fire pouring from a crack
in the sidewalk. Red ants swarming.

Any similarity to actual persons,
living or dead, is purely statistical.

Hippocrates said, If you want
to be a surgeon, follow an army.

Morning: a cockroach halfway up the wall.
Evening and it hasnt budged an inch.

My thoughts need a bath,
my mouth a bar of soap.

How long since these hands
lent themselves?

I envy the one-legged man
reading the Quran on the subway.

He holds on and is moved.

The day has swollen ankles. We slow-mo
through thick, sulphurous air.

Done with healthy living, Ill have
the Creutzfeldt-Jakob with a side of fries.

Weve smashed all the mirrors,
crossed and re-crossed the black cats path.

Next, the ten commandments.
(I can never remember them all.)

If we summon the lightning,
maybe the rain will come too.

Forgive me my boredom as I forgive you
your pissiness. Angels should live alone.

Always at me with your chapter and verse.
La-la-la, I cant hear you. Come to bed.

I want to kiss the rosary of your spine,
take your prayer wheel out for a spin.

My muddy valentine, slip off