Which Way To The Mercy Room

1

I have just won the Irish sweepstakes
Of self-loathing
The banner is black on black
And the confetti that’s falling is sharp
No one gets out of here alive or dead
So the best thing to do is sit down
Rest awhile
And wait for things to not work out
In tennis they engrave
The champion’s name on the cup
But the loser’s speech is always more poignant
Especially when he bows his head
And says with great difficulty
I gave it everything I had
My opponent was simply too good for me
His cross-court backhand
Has taught me the true meaning
Of the word shame
I would also like to thank the sponsors
And my childhood
And all the good people who make this pain possible
I will be back next year for even more
Which way to the mercy room
How do I get there
I have to have mercy
Kindness isn't enough
The only thing more brutal than nuance
Is the moment before you’re finally willing to change
But now I am almost willing
To stoop down to the mercy room
Rise up in the mercy room
Walk blind through the mercy room
Die my tiny death a thousand times a day

2

Oh God
Oh great, terrible and merciful God
Who everyone believes or doesn’t believe in
Do you mind if I call you baby
Do you mind if I kneel by the side of the road
Can you call up the governor
And get me a pardon
Can you forgive me for wasting my precious time With how I feel
For lurching
Between the wet red sex of the visceral
And the hollow hopeless terror
That the visceral leaves behind
I didn’t know any better
I swear
I am feral and un-parented
On Caribbean vacations
I was left to run wild in the streets
At the age of six
Judy Zaruki showed me her pussy
And the numbers on her father’s forearm
On the same October day
It was too much to bear
I was forced to go underground
And start my own chapter
Of the Black Panther Party
Beneath Jimmy Rosensweig’s tiki bar
I prayed to a votive candle
Of Eldridge Cleaver
Even though I had no idea who he was
And my mother
My dear, sweet, incurable mother
Screamed in my ear
“War is not healthy for children
And other living things”
It was one of the rare occasions
When she was right

3

In tennis it takes four points
To win a game
And six games
To win a set
But everyone starts at love
Love and love
That’s how we start
But then we begin acquiring points
Everyone making and missing shots
Pushing themselves
Driving themselves
And their opponent
Further and further away
We start out at love
But then the game is on
And now we need mercy
We start out at love
But then we rush the net
And now we need mercy
We start out at love
But forget to bend our knees
And now we need mercy
We start out at love
And then we make a great shot
And then another
But then we get pushed
Deep into the backhand corner
But somehow we dig it out
With a chip up the line
Leaving our opponent
Hopeless and forlorn
And questioning themselves
In the most essential and depleting way
And we have our foot
On their throat
And we have our foot
On our throat
And with total victory
Within reach
We pause to ask ourselves
Which speech it is
We want to make
The winner’s or the loser’s
And with this ultimate decision
About who we are going to be in this world
On the line
We have a moment
Of murderous clarity
And realize with great relief
That it is a stupid useless question
And that only question
Ever worth asking
Is which way
Which way to the mercy room