Lately it seems like all I do is watch shows
about people who discover that they live
in worlds full of great and unexpected evil
that they alone have been chosen to fight
and have been given super powers
with which to do it.
Their ambivalence about their power
is in inverse proportion to their growing
martial arts skills, and by the end,
what looked like a single fight against
a single assigned evil has managed to extend
itself across multiple sequels or seasons.
Some days I miss the didacticism of
old school sci-fi: the white on the left side
warnings against racism, the pig faced
pleadings for diversity, the ape/man
kiss that Sammy Davis Junior could
praise, even after his tentative romance
with Kim Novak had been sidelined
by mob goons. Some days I want to see
the lame, limp-wristed girl fight between
Mrs. Voorhees and that one surviving girl
at the end of Friday the 13th where no one
can fly or do spin kicks or judo.
I know that I'm weak; that I should look
away, but I can't, or don't want to.
I'm sure there's something I haven't
learned yet that I will, but who knows
how many seasons or sequels it will be
before I get everything right?
© 2005 Jason Schneiderman
's first book of poetry, Sublimation Point, was a Stahlecker Selection from Four Way Books. His poetry has appeared in many journals and anthologies, including Tin House, La Petite Zine, Unpleasant Event Schedule, the Penguin Book of the Sonnet, and Best American Poetry 2005. He has received fellowships from Yaddo and the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown; he has twice been head waiter at the Bread Loaf Writers Conference. He teaches creative writing at Hofstra University, and is a Chancellor’s Fellow at the City University of New York’s Graduate Center.
