Halifax
Johanna M. Geiger
Weekend new beginnings
discussions of vacations and possible parent hood
I love you, dear, though only sometimes forget my cruelty.
Saturday wheels spinning – the stacks of smoke rising off juicy hockey pucks
Red trickling – wallowing in your friend’s shoes.
Would you miss your solitary mentioning’s? Would you come rapturously over the moon?
Hear this: an accidental terror. This can and bone crushing rage.
My periodic hope for violent retribution seems empty, unsatisfactory.
luck, here, has nothing to do with existing
though everything to do with circumstance and location.
Lips pursed – I had missed the prior cues of his discomfited rage.
the lengthy stare into the paper coffee cup,
the held-breath after the question extending into the answer.
Privacy beckons with willowy talons and a sharp grin.
How could we help when we didn’t know?
What, now, is there to be done?
