NOW

A rant by Zoltan James

Call this an essay or more likely a rant ‘bout

how I can’t keep up in a 24/7 world that

demands a response NOW – not later but your

NOW is not my NOW unless you’re paying me

to respond to your NOW then I’ll get right back

to you soon as I finish this 800-word article

‘bout some thwackamaboogle for a magazine

that no one of import gets or “gets” if you know

what I mean but hey it pays the light bill then

I hear from the next room “Hey honey! The

dog has loose bowels again and she just let go

on our newly steam-cleaned carpet your sister

will be here in an hour. Remember?”  I think

to myself, “Oh crap.” A new NOW needs my

attention and all my other NOWS are backed up

in a long queue of NOWS pressing for attention

and resolution. Me thinks I need a stiff drink. NOW.

Later my NOWS are let loose cantering in a

random fashion as I refocus on my NOWS –the

novel in wait of editing the other novel

needing an ending – another 100 pages and I’m

there — the short story crying to appear on my blog

‘bout a log named Og who floats in a fog gets

caught in a bog but the storyline takes a jog and

the cog in my brain feels fried like shish kabob

and the clock on the wall and me are ticked off

cause it’s past two a.m. and we’re all tired and

cranky and not thinking straight or straight at all

my brain and limbs and jumble of ideas flop into bed

where I try to read to beat the due deadline for

the library so I don’t get fined, arrested and have

my credit report ripped to shreds by some bun-

wearing bureaucrat making more money than

she should for wielding a rubber stamp like the

Statue of Liberty over my tired, poor, and massive

headachy head that NOW can’t sleep thinking

of all the NOWS lined up in my 24/7 world.

The next morning or continuation of the day before

it all blends together like some long drawn out poem

where periods have taken hiatus or gone on strike

just to punctuate a point over what? Who cares?

There is no day and night in this mad, mad 24/7 world

where everyone NOW expects you to jump, respond,

act, answer, solve, pontificate, blog, tweet, or toot

something coherent while sipping burnt, bitter, black

coffee in a bright shop where bright young ladies

in short skirts and high heels and even younger girls

with tattoos on their ankles and nose rings saunter in

and out all ordering strange concoctions of caf and decaf

all vying for attention and getting it and everyone is abuzzzz

in my 24/7 world and no one stops NOW or bothers to ask,

“How are you, friend?”

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