Not One Before Another
I used to see you everywhere,
from Venice Beach to Pershing Square.
Your chipped-tooth smile, your brown-blond hair,
and every molecule of light electrified the air.
I used to see you when you weren’t there,
what grief’s imagination brought to bear.
Yet, nonetheless, I’d stop and stare,
despite myself, yet fully self-aware.
I used to think I really shouldn’t care.
If death’s a part of life, it’s only fair.
But “real” is really Realist doctrinaire,
and I would rather see you here and there.
About the Author
Frank Mundo is the author of the poetry books Touched by an Anglo (Kattywompus Press) and The Brubury Tales.