She was somewhere but I somehow
couldn’t see her in that graveyard
where she found me
when I ran away from home
so long ago.
When I drove a taxi for a while
I took this thief out to his job
and when I dropped him off
he didn’t pay the fare.
I didn’t care though
he seemed cool enough
and besides I would be done there
in the Spring time.
I take note of suspicious people
I pass on the sidewalk
as a record of who I can never be,
and just when I think I’m finally blind to it
I always see that stupid billboard
with her face.
I found out later eating chicken wings
that the thief I drove got caught up in
a car chase, and some sheriff ran him
burning off the road.
I guess his calculated heist just didn’t go
the way he thought it would,
but still I somehow understood
that nothing could be worse
than my apology.
When I was an intern for death one summer
I got paid in bits of souls, and I exchanged
them at the post office for a hundred dollars
every half a pound. The weirdest part was how
the soul pieces would sound when you
would pull them out and witness how it all
could turn to ash at any moment.
Now at night I sometimes wonder
what they’re doing with them all
and what the benefit becomes
when every person that you see is just a shell?