Ci Git

The last thing Roland asked
before his release
We’re friends right

I didn’t know how to tell Roland
no we aren’t friends
we’re cellmates

The next Sunday
local papers called his death
accidental drowning

As if there’s another kind I said to my new cellmate

In my cell I dream of Roland
– with a captain’s hairstyle and a coffee cup
on a tall stool facing the window
I see what he sees
looking out on a bitter street
Signage cast backward in gray

A woman outside wrapped in flannel
brushing her Lasa Apso
on the run to her car
He jots a note about her
in the margin of his book
but I can’t see that

What the fuck

Just down the street
a man with a big dog
is being arrested
For what

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

About Me

A poet-chef living in Denver, Co. I use the orange Aquafresh toothpaste, off brand mouthwash, and those little floss picks.

%d bloggers like this: