Poems
The Unanswered Note
The suicide note, like my father sober,
says little
will stay folded I presume
in the dresser Mother keeps bank papers
and report cards.
But the other note sent my freshman year
hasn’t found its place,
pauses between sweaters,
parachutes from overdue books.
His words flicker:
So proud…
So sorry I’ve not…
So bright your…
If I could look
words in the eye,
smell their breath…
Must a word slurred be tainted?
Or is my doubt the shame?
A letter never
answered but still read.
The capital B’s sturdy,
mark of his name.
I crawl into the bottom loop,
think of the word bridge.
In both paperback and book art editions of Opening the Mouth of the Dead
Published in RHINO