inspired by Robert Wood Lynn
The problem with riding shotgun is
the thought you're driving & then thoughts sinking—
soon it is better blinded, ears hollowed out
& did I tell you my bird Frankie died
last night? She stiffened by the water trough every claw angled up
& I knew there were no guarantees when we started.
Today there is the feeling
whatever I've gotten close to has turned up dead inside,
far from me—& all I ever wanted was to direct traffic.
From where I hang in the trees above the jungle,
I can see the beaches, & the cruise ships unloading on the docks—
& their thoughts. Maybe every turn & how they will breathe.
Tonight, a building on 67th street, the climb is sleek mirrored,
the people grow smaller beneath, & I step
out the window.
The Earth is covered in flies.
--
Manny Grimaldi is a writer, actor, and editor from Louisville, Kentucky. He is managing editor at Yearling Poetry Journal, in Lexington, Kentucky. His publications and future pubs include The Rye Whiskey Review, Moss Puppy, Pegasus, The Crossroads Literary Magazine, Drinkers Only, LexPoMo anthologies, and Club Plum.