A Litany of Bad Decisions
Part One:Â OmensÂ
The only remainingÂ
correspondence betweenÂ
the two of usâ   a New YorkÂ
Times article about MarfaÂ
and a reply of yippee.Â
Jon Krakauerâs Under the Banner
of Heaven on audiobookâÂ
Mormonism, bloodÂ
atonement, a six hourÂ
drive through desert.Â
The first gallery with photographs
of Katrinaâs destruction pairedÂ
with poems   by children leftÂ
in her wake. Something beautifulÂ
repurposed from storm
but still destruction.Â
Part Two: Take it All Back
Some farm-to-table restaurantÂ
with a name that involvedÂ
chicken and electricityÂ
where you bring your own wine.Â
A loud table of sophisticated
middle-aged couples, tipsy and deep,Â
deep in conversation. Us, silent,
draining everything we brought.Â
A bar afterwards, a folk singer
finishes his set and we talkÂ
too long about Club Passim.Â
We meet a couple, and you tell themÂ
youâre from Brooklyn and I sayÂ
but youâre from Connecticut.Â
All of your drinks on my tabâÂ
scotches piled upon scotches.Â
Then, a Milky Way-themed trailerÂ
that sells grilled cheeseâ
you screaming at me from a bean bagÂ
chair, everything misshapenÂ
in black light, and so twisted, I walk out
and back to our rental alone
through pitch-black streetsÂ
with no real sidewalks. Â
Whoâs going to love the dying girl?
It all unravels: a smashed phone,Â
a disconnected call, an overturnedÂ
coffee table, a locked bathroom,Â
chunks of my hair, unmoored.Â
Part Three: Aftermath
Triplicates of paperwork.Â
A gas stop, a guy on a Harley
with a sympathetic look,Â
and then cheap sunglasses.Â
A legion of bugs sacrificedÂ
on my windshield with no substanceÂ
in the world other than sheerÂ
will to scrub them off. Â
Six hours to forget:
Iâll leave you in a shallowÂ
grave in West Texas.Â
