whatever you call yourself, whatever
you call attention to: whether it’s your eyebrows,
delusions of grandeur,
your hips where you once almost had a child
you can call yourself whatever the hell you want to:
I’m gone
and like a worm in a sparrow’s mouth
I know that you got what you needed from me
that’s why you feel
better
that’s why you can now use the internet
to show the world
how you’ve changed—
but I know the truth, mama
you are afraid
you don’t like the wind, the heat, the world when it’s just too
tough to bear
you don’t want to work, don’t want to dream
and when you wake up in the morning in your white bathrobe
you call yourself a
god
but I know the truth
no worries
honey
masking your pain behind your
cell phone
I wouldn’t worry about it:
I’m gone
and there’s nothing left to remember me by, just a few
shirts I bought you from Bangkok and the cell phone cover
with an elephant cartoon
I wouldn’t worry about it, you won’t have to
remember me if you don’t want to—I finally understand
and that’s why
from now
until the end of each day
the rest of this year
and the next, I’m gone
I’m gone, I’m gone—I’m gone
and you
are free
to swallow
me
whole.
I’ve had stuff published in Red Fez, Whirlwind Magazine, Entropy, Nightingale & Sparrow, MyWorldAbroad, Beatdom, Vietnam Insider, and forthcoming in Mineral Lit Mag. For the last 18 months, I’ve been traveling around the world, visiting 12 countries last year. I’ve self-published 13 books. My website is bryanwilliammyers.com.