That Last Post Blows so Here’s a Revision

“The End of Me”

It stays warm until November
down here in Utah’s Dixie
grackles instead of starlings
downtown streets wastefully wide and did You know today
my new fish died and the slacks I chose
are stone white
my shirt a frigate bird’s ballooning red throat and there’s nothing to do
in the school office my students failed
to come again and the full-timers are talking football
and the adjuncts are all women I know
and I am . . . I wish I could
love a man
slouch on the couch and watch “Boys Don’t Cry”
and cry in his lap in this life
and kiss and lie down like blue moss
on the bright rock of his body
or like two cats head-butting and arching and rubbing
or lie unconscious basking in the sunspots
that stretch across the carpet and I know now
that silt is the death-body of stone and we can leave
the same way rocks leave
dissolved, transformed, washed away and it’s time You knew
years ago when my sleep was deeper
I dreamed I removed my penis
and stored it in a locker and came back later
to touch the ugly lonely thing and You should know by now
when this is over I don’t want more
of the same God please
please God when my death-time comes
you must know I will run
in red high heels
a sequined skirt
braided hair waiving like willow catkins
I will flow from the old world
into the next.