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Poem: In the Second World 

Youdidn’thear?sheasks assheplacespastriesonthetable hereyes

staringintomine,mine staringintonowhere asshetellsme

Edgargo triedtoenditall withsleepingpillsandbeer,they

foundhimpassedoutatthecurbside tookhimto

theemergencyroom&pumpedhisstomach Whatelse?Iask. Shesays

Lucas isinUruguaywithhisgirlfriend,trying hishandatwriting

andsays hehasathousandnewideaseachmorning, he

wishesyouwouldvisitmoreoften,shesaysas shewipesthecrumbs


shewhispers herfingerstracing thecoffeecup.

What’slifelikeinYanquilandia?sheasks andItellher

LessthanIexpected. Iwas hopingI’dfitinmore

but Idon’tnow. I’mlearningtoacceptit. You

learntoliveinseparateworlds,separate &similar then

everythingturnsintoone. Inonemoment, everythingiscrushedinto

onlyonechoice only:Here. Thisiswhereyoulive. Thisishow

themorningshappen, &how cricketssinginthesummer.

WhenIreturned,Itellher,Iaskedthesamequestions, butwhenIaskthem

theysay: Mark diedofaheartattack andtheydon’tknowwhy,

and Jono gotmarried&didn’tinviteyoutohisbachelor’sparty.

Pete droveoffabridgeon astormynightinCostaRica. There’sno difference,it’sjust adifferentsurrounding,different

names&backgrounds.Intime thetwoworldsgrowmoreandmore

similar, nolongerseparate,nolonger amystery,

andyourlifegoeson likeitalwayshas.

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