Underwater Breathing Apparatus

Big Hat Lady over in the corner wonders why
everybody’s staring at her. She’s a common
fencepost as far as I can tell.
When we were kids driving to school,
M told me his family didn’t believe
in caskets but pine boxes in unmarked plots,
which stuck with me until now, and now
that I can forget death, friends are having babies.
I’m not sure I can forgive them.
Z says the imagination is cyclical and amoral.
Knowing why I’m sad does not eliminate sadness.
It’s like loving this city or needing
to win the lottery. A sermon on the tv
on God, Guns, Gospel, and Geometry
proves my theory of restlessness.
In the same breath teachers say young readers
just don’t like Holden
as much as they used to, and even cheerleaders fall
victim to the budget crisis now and again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

S p r i n g G u n P r e s s 2009

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