the radio
that
you took
with you
to
your grave

you play it
often
i hear it
as i
kneel
on the
ground

by your side

it is dark
now
time for
me to
go
inside
and see

you

the bubble
burst
right
before my
eyes

vanished
what was
once so
vibrant and
healthy
vanished

a stupid
magic
trick

and
almost
terrified
by
what would
happen

far from
being
over
eases
into
tomorrow

refuse
to
be miserable
refuse
to walk
around like
some fucking
zombie. fact
is, we want
everything
just
not
quite like
you

the
world
we
do not know

god will not
tell
us

so
maybe
you
will

til
one day
when
we
marry

hit the street
age 7
or
8

all my friends were
there

it was a school
without a grade
a test
with
many
teachers

and i would
learn
shit
then
go to
school

we are
prepared
for everything
and that
will not happen

as the
bus
hits
a pole
3 blocks
from
the hospital

as the
parachute
opens
as the
bat
hits
the ball

as the
organ
tunes

we are all
going to
the festival
celebrating
guns and
saints

in the
war i
drove a
tank and
carried a
very small
explosive

prayed to
saint
bernard
sang
a song
about
god
forgiving
us
all

mostly drove
saw it all
flash
from the
driver’s
side

it was always
a
thrill just
to sit
in
the
passenger seat

it is a different
view the
road without
the fingers
the
wheel

mesmerized
terrified
ready
unaware
and
almost
unified
by
what would
happen

far from
being
over
eases
into
tomorrow