“May 26–The Dow Closes Down 9974” originally appeared in Cannibal. Reprinted by permission of the author.
Some days it is easier to talk with the dead than the living.
On your side of the Atlantic you sleep and I am lonely
thinking of how this talk might wake you.
I check my departure gate,
want to swim in information
grammarian, orator, servant, lender.
The birds sound like Texas
mornings, coins feel heavier.
I don’t have a name for these Old World trees.
The Bible calls the tree both good and evil.
But we know it’s not the apple when the branches cause our undoing,
putting this here, that there—you in our bed in Texas,
me in a Spanish airport, the dead with no return address
hanging over us like a thousand leaves.
Photo By: j 5uh
