Fallin at 5:17 for Kaitlin*

i



:17

a radio because snow is noiseless
choosing to shuffle stations because in a way,
tuning buttons symbolizes defiance.
Heavy eyes in a heavy snow,
you’re in a car that might as well
be without wheels.

2.5 : 8.5

unidentifiable object coming towards you-
not traffic or snowballs. your hand’s not guiding the wheel.
More plowing goes on miles away, the clock
radio blinks and the you sing- the sound of vocals
without tunes and your response isn’t
to slow down.

: 5

a telephone pole flattens the roof and me,
trapped five hundred miles southeast.
a car passes you but won’t stop to help.

your head in the white snow,
a bright crimson outline-
fallen without meaning into glass,
which glistens still on the only visible
concrete, made by skidded tire marks.

ii

: 17 Poison

Pete introduced me to you
as his loser cousin who chose to eat a box of crayons
in second grade, to avoid getting caught stealing them-
and you told him you once stacked ice cubes
and made a car out of them, dyed it red with food coloring.
Pete called you weird because that had nothing
to do with making a real decision.

2.5 : 8.5 Alcohol

At the party you called me,
silliness in your voice and I was only
jealous I wasn’t there
so I hung up the phone.

: 5 Newspaper

They wrote that you couldn’t have predicted this.
Of course at some point
we all tamper with poison, but it shouldn’t kill us.

Taught myself to look consequence in the eye
long before it becomes irreversible.