In Medias Res

But let's talk about you for a minute

With the vomit in your gullet

From a half bottle of vodka

That we'd stolen from the optic

On the back seat in your car

Because it wasn't safe to start it

You were "far too fucked to drive"

Were the words that you imparted

And the woolen dress that clung so tight

To the contours of your body

The dead grass stuck to fibers from us

Rolling in the layby

Were passed to dog-haired blankets

That protected the back seat covers

And a crucifix was hung from rear-view

Mirror by your mother

I'm leaving my body to science

Not medical, but physics

Drag my corpse through the airport

And lay me limp on the left wing

Drop me at the highest point

And trace a line around the dent I leave in the ground

That'll be the initial of the one you'll marry

Now that I'm not around

I flew for seven hours

The sky didn't once turn black

I wake from sleep, my head and shoulder

Wet against the window

A frost had formed and melted, soaked me

Right through to my collarbone

If you were given the option

Of dying painlessly in peace at 45

With a lover at your side

After a full and happy life

Is this something that would interest you?

Would this interest you at all?