the message

I’ll write it
in a fortune cookie fortune –
you never order
Chinese. I’ll write it in the sky
in puffy white letters fifteen feet tall,
and hope you don’t leave
the house that day. I’ll write it
in BBQ sauce on your plate
when you go to the bathroom,
and hope the waiter clears
the dishes before you return.
I’ll write it in chalk on the sidewalk
and watch little girls play games
all over it. I’ll write it in blood
on the inside of my lungs,
I’ll write it in tears on the inside
of my eyelids, I’ll write it in aspartame
on the inside of a diet Coke can,
I’ll write it in crumbs
for the pigeons and squirrels
to spread the word,
for sparrows
to hop on your windowsill and
tell you in a series of chirps that you can’t
possibly understand.
I’ll write it in sighs
on the wind.

all of these
would be a better way
to communicate
what I know you don’t want to hear
than opening my big fat mouth
and saying a single word.

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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