Worse things exist than being single.
Chemo port coming displaced
Weekend spent calling triage
Turning into intestinal blockage
Real time shards
Spinning a death spiral.
Marriage worn thin
Crumpled wrappers, piled.
Candy bars eaten one after another
In a way that only solitary despair knows.
After 19 years bricklaying
Spreading mortar’s family glue
I got out of that thing with me and you.
Alone, snowshoes on Antarctic ice
Raw and punchy
Napkin dabs on my mouth
Meant for someone else, surely.