genesisSpring2016.pdf


32     genesis spring 2016

The day after he dumped you,
let’s-just-take-a-break–style
you saw a dead bird on the sidewalk
and took a picture of  it
and sent it to him
and he didn’t reply
but what did you expect

like the dead robin you saw
outside the library
before it really got cold,
sort of  an avian miscarriage or maybe
abortion, sinewy
and sad and kind of  like chewed gum,
bird bacon

and the snow that fell on your head
under the singing orange streetlamp,
rivulets of  broken yolk through your hair.
Except it wasn’t snow,
it dried hard and purple 
and you used an entire bottle of  Pantene
to make you feel civilized again.

The Day After He Dumped You