at work
in the parking lot of a
shitty kind of

listening to
the opposite of

windows rolled up
doors locked

and if i smoked
i would be smoking

out the front
window of my hot black

a man with glasses
directly across the way
from me

exits his car
and begins walking
towards the work building.

windows rolled up

“stop,” i say,
he does.

“lock your doors,”
he does. he can’t hear me.

“get on the roof of your
car,” and he turns back around,
robotically, and steps up onto the
roof of his car.

he is skinny and awkward,
standing on the hood of a ninety-five
civic, so naturally

“now jump off,” i say, and
he does. and shit
i’m late for work and i’m sure
he is too.

“take out your cellphone,”
and he does.
“call in sick for me,”
and he does.
“call in sick for you,”
and he does.

i tell him to climb a tree
and he can’t hear me
but he can,
and he does.
he swings
like a monkey from
a branch.

“go jump in
that lake!” and
like a dog chasing after
a ball, he

he does not look

within someone else’s will
he is peaceful and

he just stands there smiling
in the lake
by the parking lot
near work.

i think of all the advantages
of this situation; the

i command him
never ever listen to my commands
and he does.

it was nice to take a sick day.




Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

13 thoughts on “SIMON SAYS”

  1. interesting twist, I like it!
    very good….glad you offered his free will back, even though
    he didn’t know to take it…
    Take care..

    1. I was at work, in the parking lot, like the poem begins and I saw this guy who looked like me except he had glasses and he drove my old car, a black civic, and I watched him walk away and I said “lock your door” under my breath and he came back and did. The poem kind of wrote itself from there.

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