Jim Trainer


In Poetry on October 23, 2013 at 3:30 pm

crazy this mourning for you
that your death could be more real
than any living here.
even in these carpeted rooms
cups lined with the thickest liquor
books thick&sagging in their shelves
even with all my confidence
that the thick line
of her German thigh
will remain on
the green velour
and I have finally won her smile,
I will have to cut
out back
beneath the eaves
smoke one while looking up
to see the
cleaving the summer away
knowing you now
better than me
making the entirety of it all
baser than the most wicked
wiser than
the highest crown-
this is harvest, this is anniversary.
were I to
rake the loam with your hands
were I to truly
as you have
then I would hear them, too
I would hear them all
and know at once
how strange
is this mortality,
that all effort&endeavor
all lengths you have gone
to provide&protect
those whom you have loved
it has done nothing for this
it has not made time less
it has not made us miss you
any less.


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