Poetry make scarce

[Verdance]

(I don't do much poetry, but here's something...)



you wrote a poem about me
only fair i should return the favor


ii.

once a month i check the obituaries for you
ritualize my frantic search for you
because even though i got over wishing you were dead
i half can't wait for a world without you
i'll finally be all alone
it's hard enough not being able to find you anywhere else
for all i know you're far out of town
you'll end up in the notices in god's country and never make the local news
so i just hope i find out when it happens
when you go for good i can spin my gears
be a good little automaton
an empty house on conveyor belts for the thousandth day in a row
and the memory of your name will fly in through the window
i will try to catch it
i will burn myself to the ground
how did that old song go?


iii.

did you have a baby?
when i think about things it makes some kind of sense
you are a safety pin
you look harmless
you are more useful in a slender width of metal than i am in all my skin
but i just want you for being sharp
it must have been a baby
pregnant girls do crazy shit
on the floor
there was a woman who ate too much every meal
she ate two trays of food
she was eating for herself and a passenger
she made herself sick
we found out she wasn't even pregnant


iv.

once a year i check the obituaries for him
an anniversary for someone i never met
i find the article and read it a few times over
you used to tell me how cute he was
by comparison to either of you i was tragic
the picture his family used doesn't have the undercut
you said you had a weakness for the undercut
i would have gotten one if it would have helped
how dare you
asking me for comfort
forcing me to know
telling me i helped you commit a murder
he was a kid
his name still makes my mouth dry to hear
did you ever get over it?
is it possible to get over anything?
how did that old song go?


v.

here's the one that wasn't ours
but should have been