:: Article

Closer, Now, Closer

By Nicholas Rombes.


Like the guilty son returning to the scene
Of the crime I came home, following my own
True north. The one-lane bridge.
I remember that. And the trestle that Melissa K.
Hung herself from in 1998. Do girls do that
You’d asked, as if I’d know the answer
To that or anything—
or as if it mattered,
For hadn’t you said that we were all beyond
Good and Evil now?
You are my Kristeva.

Beyond and into something greater
Than the old ways of thinking seeing as how, as strayers,
We’d broken our minds over and over
Against the hard facts of what it is that makes us human.

Dear: the dangling, bodyless rope they forgot
To take down afterwards, what about that?
Or the way she did it barefoot,
A splinter in her toe? The camera didn’t invent watching.
The songbird’s song was there before the songbird
They say.

They say a lot of things, you said, drunk
At Belle’s Tavern. The mangey black dog turning
In abysmal circles beneath the bar. Your faded Delfonics
T-shirt and those naked hairy guys shooting pool.
What gives? And to top it off
In the middle of a blizzard.

I still love the sound of coyotes in the night like crying
Fatal babies or worse yet
Animals pretending to be crying babies.
Everything, even the trees, are getting smarter.

Everything, even the stars, are getting closer.
Everything, Lisa, even you.



Nicholas Rombes

Nicholas Rombes is author of the novel The Absolution of Roberto Acestes Laing (Two Dollar Radio) and the 33 1/3 book Ramones (Bloomsbury), as well as the director of the feature film The RemovalsHis work has appeared in The BelieverThe Los Angeles Review of Books, and Filmmaker Magazine. He is a professor of English at the University of Detroit Mercy, at the corner of Six Mile and Livernois, in Detroit, Michigan.

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Monday, December 7th, 2020.