Robert Siek | Shoot the iPhone of the Deceased into Outer Space

October 2019

Robert Siek

Shoot the iPhone of the Deceased into Outer Space

And sometimes it’s okay to cross on foot at a stop sign and not look down the one-way street, the open end of a cannon, like here I go time traveling, skipping back and forth on the highest level of a newly built fortress, very it’s still the age of exploration and this damn wall will be here for tourists in the twenty-first century doing hair whips and shouting, “I’m Linda Evangelista,” while snapping a selfie; the stones used for construction, the painted black cannonballs older than towns in New Jersey, impersonating pyramids, listening to the ocean, teenagers twirl like nature said here I am, let’s dance till blood beneath toenails, bring it to a boil, shake a bottle of seltzer then unscrew the cap while the open end ejaculates up nose, over teeth. Purple alert, numb toes, SUVs speed past stop signs. You better post this shit on Instagram. Who’s ready for a closeup? Ten thousand likes and an autopsy that will go down in history.

This poem began one day while I was taking a walk. I came upon this street crossing at a stop sign that was recently erected and often ignored by drivers. I imagined one of the many people walking while focused on their smartphones just heading out into traffic trusting that cars would stop, and the poem took off from there. It began playing out in my head and I felt a strong need to start writing it on my phone — once I was safely across the street. The idea of being unaware of our surroundings thanks to technology led further to exploring how often in the midst of places, things, people, phenomenon really worth looking at, focusing on, that instead many of us are searching out the best spot for a selfie. Personally I find it all a bit sad, but whatever, onward and upward.

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