Suicide Note (Part 2)

At dawn when we rise like children from slumber
a slow dance to the window
the shades pulled back like the first act unfolding
If I were to step outside
break into the sun and the dream of the night before
where would spring be in New York?

With these birds
who have not yet learned to die
but have surely planned the route?
In this graffiti
illegible
a face one saw as the effigy
an old moment passed over by time
you sat on your throne
said your vows
and miscalculated the meaning of the promise
"it takes more than just a crown to be a king," she said

There is a park uptown
where departures are unforseen
the changing of seasons
murders planned by decor of fallen leaves
and if I were killing the spring
if the express train ran on into winter
what might we miss but the burial
or another hour gone.

If in those moments
when she leaned into the bathroom sink
of the spoiled club
with her dress pulled up high
you might have taken the time
looked into the eyes of the stranger
and the strangeness of the incident created
instead of the mirror (and yourself)

He dominates her like private property
he'll cut the grass when he sees fit
and water the garden in time
pulled out before the birth of the woman
when the egg has spoiled in the soil
and the virus had passed on
oh that blessed season of demise
how April begins

She steps outside the child's frame
witnessed the woman she would one day be
What he had allowed her to see
before he parted the waters
like Moses and ran
drowned the soldiers in their sacred land

Could she have let you go
as the Spring goes
as May fades into June
the rain calms from the storm
and the flowers begin to set in
murderous nights slip away
the deception
fertilizes the violence
something jumps from a window
and screams

I recall that day at 13
when they took her away
placed on the toe a tag
and labeled the girl a term she would never decipher

and they laughed
even the doctors laughed
with their sterile smiles
all done up for their drive home
to their long driveways
and fertile wives
the cleaning lady disinfects while she feigns sleep
she too could not clean the curse
so the wish went to the garbage with the rest of the trash
(it was only minimum wage, what more could you expect)

come day break
they send in the clown
he does his traveling act from room to room
he gives her two coins
she remembers their dates
(1947 and 1908)
she remembers the boy down the hall
not his name
nor the disease he claimed as his
but at night while the interns slept
he rolled into her room
an angel with wheels of fire
Above them a statue stood erect
dripping the absence of god
of the boy he might have been
Into her arms with his feeble arms he climbed
a shrine
that fruitless bed
that memory of matching attire
he made her the queen of his dominion
and looked down on his ward for one second with pride
fingers entwined they kissed by the curtain
the first act unfolds
and he rises a child from slumber
if it was his throne he had conquered
it was not a throne for the taking
But never-the-less she had made him a King
before last rights successfully set in

How we kill the Spring
take back the promise
leave a path of little more than crumbs
but how she remembers
those first steps
and the direction taken
somewhat askew
to the very last
where a slow dance is traveling toward the window.

 

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