a sight, I suppose
raw-red flesh in the cornfield
picked over, contorted
it’s not her corpse, though
keep moving
.
and down the road,
the uniform hanging from the garage door
could appear, to the untrained eye,
a guy hanging himself with electrical wire
could appear suicide, suicidal
there’s no body here
keep moving
.
and they know, all the way from Leighton to Dorr
Wayland to Martin, to Plainwell
Hickory Corners through Orangeville
when a gentleman takes me to dinner
their first question, always
Does he drink?
because the last one was rather saturated, rather wretched
and they know I’ve lived too many days tolerating it
.
Kalamazoo, I always thought, is where things go to die
maybe you think so now, too
an entire Friday in the hospital parking lot
waiting, anticipating, recollecting
poinsettias are winter funeral flowers
and knowing what dying looks like
hurts, laying eyes on your mother afterwards
lost muscle tone, loose skin, spiritual exhaustion
knowledge used to be a goddamn blessing
.
I wear a blade on my hip
so everyone knows I’m more than a paper-cut
resurrected memories of semi-truck fatalities
was not what we dwelled on the other night
this sickness, without the paranoia is rather too much
and there was more trauma there than broken bodies, snapped necks
they do have something about their eyes, you’re right
a certain pallor to their cheeks, zygomatic arches
this is our disillusionment, I guess
in their eyes, you see Death is imminent
and I look at every amorous relationship,
identifying what will sever it
everything has an expiration date
keep moving,
we said
but some people just never do again
Just Thoughts 