The Median Divides the Here and

Another night to forget

another night with the man who will not be named

Hamelech Malchai Hamlochim-

or so he acted, and so he thought-

Another long trip back to the house-not-home because

I was never asked to see the morning

car redirected, traffic crawls past flashers

battalion of emergency vehicles

even Jaws of Life! slicing open a belly up Civic,

wheels still spinning.

And then I

And then I

I know that car

Where’s my phone and I’m pushing buttons and

I Don’t Know

And my ex answers.

What the hell are you doing calling at 3 am?

She’s upstairs, asleep.

Like you care.

Bitch.

Pale ribbons, soggy bears, rivulet ink paeans,

marking a long ago night to forget.

Families move away, move on,

The crypt island shrinks, as the road is widened

“to facilitate more, faster, travel”

Now, barely large enough for one faded cross,

crooked with years,

three new crosses join it.

My baby is asleep in her bed.

The hand-me-down Civic is in pieces.

Shadow reaches from my stagger

I find my keys and drive to the house-not-home

But still more of a home than where