Hymns Ancient and Modern

I found the instruction manual
for myself, in the pages
of a dictionary of dates.

Inside, the past predicts the future,
while the present waits at this desk
listening to Today Is the Day.

How would I have faired
as James Madison (1751-1836)?
Not very well, considering

the insatiable need to christen
vice president George Clinton
"Atomic Dog" every time I see him.

Over thirty years later
I could have given my name
to the unit of electrical resistance,

securing my identity on the back
of speakers, good and bad,
tinny and warm, bookshelf and sub.

But the place to be on this date
is France. Call me Prudhomme
and I will sing a poem worthy of Nobel

and twenty-one years after my death
I will linger near the Seine, waiting
to see myself as Jerry Lewis on television.