what can I tell you? no poetry remains
at the site of this crime, move along
all gas pumps are empty, no fuel
will be sold. if you proceed to the shoreline
they’re towing the old battleship out to sea
and sinking it. there’ll be underwater
explosions which you won’t see, but you’ll
feel them. remember that feeling if
you kiss each other on the way home, taste
your breath as it’s returned to you. it’s what
can happen, any moment, in the space of a heart
beat, articulate wink, insert “I’d like more time” here

if I did spill my drink, I’ll say it was an accident,
although it probably wasn’t, but I’ll say it wasn’t
what I meant to do, create an unstated expectation
you’ll forgive me. it’s understood, insert your thought
“more patience” here, but I’ll take advantage
of your system of generous kindness, because I need
to be not what I meant to do when
there’s no good that comes from being misunderstood
I’ll say, “pass me that mask again, tell me honestly
don’t hold back, does this make me look
like someone else I should be, right now?”
insert “another mask stares back” here

the television that tunes to pirate poetry signals
is no longer on, it’s been replaced with a video
of a fire burning in the middle of snow at night
reflection of its flames paint blue black shadows
with directions to your nearest bus or subway exit
because you’ve a choice not to know what
you’re missing while you wait to get back to your stop
insert, “I’m not sure I know what’s really going on,” here

belief is unnecessary, often redundant, insert “understanding”
here, when works goes missing, it’s hard for everyone involved
to admit the search may have been forgotten, put on hold,
insert “yawning void” here, because the metal, stone, insert “ancient”
here, relics that have been discovered right beneath our feet
hint at a language that may be forgotten, or never really existed,
why is it what remains scares everyone who looks or doesn’t want to?
insert what you think is “meaning,” or “successful conclusion”
here