to be up to someone else the morning
I nearly call because no one else
knows me losing this way
woman spooned old hotel mattress
straitjacket morning sun so god
damned high in its sky all the love
gone watching you build walls
to break down tree diving into its ditch
puddle sun just enough to make May
snow tolerable boxes not stacking
themselves no regard for the leaving
your t-shirt busts blood of one lung
dying Facebook says
I can’t
have a relationship
with myself no matter how
complicated days never X-d on my calendar
squares each neat weight distributing shape
stacked in no trailer I’m waving
I’m saying goodbye to
so much road.
Lisa Fay Coutley is the author of ERRATA (SIU, forthcoming 2015), winner of the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry Open Competition Award and In the Carnival of Breathing (BLP, 2011), winner of the Black River Chapbook Competition. Her poetry has been awarded a fellowship from the NEA, scholarships to the Bread Loaf and Sewanee Writers’ Conferences, and an Academy of American Poets Levis Prize.