|||
Cassiopeia
– After Buffalo
So we say their names
Winding each syllable
like double Dutch and
I can’t make sense of this
because I’m tender headed.
I can’t make sense of this
and I’ll write the names in
the ballot of the primaries
National tragedy is a refrain
and I know this song and
I’ll sing til my tongue collapses
like Babylon with a sigh —
You could have made it home tonight.
Sunday dinner is served but
sits cold until you say grace and
Say their names once more
and feel flames eat your ribs
and cinder rise from your mouth
Spit out the rage, the ash +
pledge allegiance to dissolve
United States of Sorrow
Choke on the mercurial truth
You should not have died tonight
Oh, say can you see
All these souls,
Such hopes and
dreams freckle
the black face
of the night’s sky
Thinking about guns, loss and humidity — exhausting and the pain permeates and takes up space. The police ask me if I saw anything or anyone that seemed unfamiliar and I say “you.” There were seven gunshots and the kids said “wait is that real” before they all began to run and scream. My legs don’t stop moving until I’m in the 7/11 and a man says to Keith “yeah, you heard it too?” I saw it. The slurpee machine has a sign on it that says “will work soon.” A broken machine. Used to be a once great thing and now just an obsolete machine like this nation. Used to be in your top 8 on MySpace and now I’m aging irrelevant and hoping the state run hospice has a good bingo night. Thinking about how people you thought would be here forever aren’t anymore. Nothing is forever. Save this word document as “forever” knowing one day I’ll never open it again. Knowing full well that the apocalypse will delete the Earth’s search history and cache but for now cyberspace is an attempt at immortality. Keith holds the door open and says “Kelly, I ain’t seen you in a while” and I say “I got covid” and he says “Just glad you ain’t get hit. Glad you ain’t die. One more day on Earth together.”
