Out of Gas
[…] We were not the first
to arrive, nor the last to leave. Who knows,
it may all turn out for the best. And whoreally cares about such special days, they
are not what we live for.
—James Tate, “A Wedding”
“A life can weigh upwards of many kilograms,”
you tell me. You forget that I am an American,
something I’ve always been, so your statement
comes off a little situational comedy to me.
“I am afraid of becoming past tense,” I say,
reading the insurance company’s well-wishes.
There is the window Michael Keaton jumped
out of and things turned out just fine for him,
so…”Remember when we ran out of gas
in California?” you ask. “That was a time.”
And I can really see it: a banana slug’s slow
ascent, the perfect gemstone for your desk.
Upstairs, Nurse Lawrence braises a chicken
and keeps one blue eye on the TV.
