aayoungi blame robert frost
his cold methodology
his need to fill disused graveyards with
death’s dazzling white snow glamour
a slow creep crystalline across
an already shattered windshield
i blame robert frost
as i cannot blame
my father
my friend
or an absent god
for them forgetting
they had promises to keep
yes, we are plunging into the snowy wood
because i come from a long line
of dead indians
outdoorsmen and southern drunks
me
my shotgun
canteen
and trusty steed of a dog
inked pheasant feather in my cap
but we wouldn’t dare shoot a thing
not so much as a skittering squirrel
though dad showed me how to skin ’em
with five slits of a pocket knife
when i was six
i won’t spill blood for the sake
of making noise
and the chance
to lean against a tree
sipping sunday bourbon
he was
beautiful and brilliant
more talented than most
in countless things
quick
agile
cunning
sharp tongued
smooth
well traveled
and tastefully dressed
he knew the password at every speak easy
in brooklyn
and the drummer of all the world’s local bands
i remembered the way he loved me tonight
during the three hour drive home
in the white death
passing cars stranded
off the road
a three car pileup
and people bleeding
even the plows couldn’t get to us
but not me
because
he found me all weather tires
at good year
researched
and saw to everything with one phone call
even made sure the men were extra nice to me
yes
he was each one of those things
the way all the best monsters are
fuck him
for my remembrance of this
for this poem
fuck him
for being a tragedy
the first time
i saw his face
was
a moment suspended
within the milk of a star lit morning
deep beneath
layers of winter
my tightly cut
snow glistening
wool coat and garbo scarf
glided through quarter notes
on the moving street
he turned to face me directly
as i came closer
his eyes forgot everything but mine
one look
and i knew
that i’d been going about it all wrong
i raised my brow
with a sultry smile
and said
good morning
in such a way
that made him want to hear it
spoken
just like that
into his ear
as he entered me
for centuries