Thu
Feb
11
[Emotional Log-Jam on Payment Plan]
After forty-seven minutes
on the phone, listening
to Videotron’s hold music
I reached for my safety
scissors whose best work was snipping
off Gordon’s antennaed
head, that pest, his leg twitching
for hours. I fingered
the dull blade, trying to match the
rhythm set by the smooth
jazzy rendition of Celine’s
“I will always love you.”
(democratically developed assignment: poem about death that is poem about crickets)