To collect my kids
I drive the usual route

I see a jack rabbit

Fileted in the bike lane
On the side of the road

And remember

Elvis’ lame dog
Who ain’t never

Caught a rabbit

And I feel

Out of life insurance

For all those in the field
Moving quickly

Minding their own business

Paying their bills
Putting food on the table

It is wrong (this death)

Whatever dog drug him here
Ain’t no friend of mine

Speed like a bullet–

Kids in tow
Blustering and bickering

A privileged high pitch

We roll like that until
I tap the brakes

Point and say a few words
Over the slain bunny


I want them to be sorry
Because I want them to

Remember (me)

For tomorrow is Wednesday
And the trash goes out


13 thoughts on “Tuesday

  1. Life is fleeting, only our relations to God last.
    I’ve seen some jackrabbits alive lately. Amazing creatures.

  2. We are made, we live, we die , to let others see or know of death and in the case of the rabbit at least, that it should also be marked with the respect. I am sure you will be remembered for many, many things. x

    1. your words are true. every now and then we are stopped in our tracks by a reminder of our own mortality. honest pathos should not over-shadow the legacy of a life well-lived or the promise of a future eternal one

  3. Poor bunny. Love the poem, though. The last two lines are reminiscent of a Jack Kornfield book title, that is: “After the Ecstasy, the Laundry.” 🙂

    Have a great weekend!

    1. Don’t you think a denial of the surreal is almost a healthy thing as most of us live within the four walls of “ho-hum.” I like how your comments often include a bibliography:P Nice! Here’s one for you from Anne Sexton’s The Awful Rowing Toward God: “This man, this woman with their double hunger, have tried to reach through the curtain of God and briefly they have, though God in His perversity unties the knot.” (akin to after the ectasy)

  4. Bibliography–haha. I suppose that’s true. 🙂

    Nice! Thanks for sharing that line; I haven’t read much Anne Sexton.

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