Just Another Breakup Poem
Trains uncouple
with noisy disconnection.
High pitched metal friction
crowded slams of boxcars
trapped on their tracks.
Kudzu grows in every possible
Orifice of the earth.
The way we left it
we will not be friends.
You will not receive my
Complaints; Memories
are on lockdown.
Friends will choose —
Buy a ticket for one train
Or the other. Believe you
believe me.
I will walk away
from money
and the doors
with locks I changed
Twice.
I will walk
away from the
bench that was
my grandmother’s
the one you rebuilt
to your specs
and made unrecognizable
with perfectionistic
obliteration.
You ignored what I
cared about
in a garden.
The old broken down bench
was 50 years old
but you could still sit on it
smell the honeysuckle
that took over everything
in the spring.
You never
heard me when I
said these things out loud.
No matter
I rode the train off west
while you moved the bench
next to your roses.
