Dammit, Petersen

That story your wife told
about you playing along with Jeopardy
getting the question about
the civil rights leader wrong
and exclaiming, “Dammit, Petersen!
you stupid white cracker!"

Dammit Petersen, you make me laugh!
all those jobs and moves and marriages
but I swear to Christ we are still back there
taking our picture with the sign
outside the strip club in Louisville
to scared and awkward to go inside.

Dammit Petersen! Dammit cancer!
Dammit distance! Dammit time!
! we are still young
or at least too young for this shit.
Fuck these healing poisons
and excavation of cells run amuck.

Damn it Petersen, you have always been
my twin from a better universe—
kinder, more approachable,
you deserved more years than me.

Dammit Petersen! I could swear we are still freshman.
You're teaching me The Indigo Girls
and I'm driving you crazy
playing Pink Floyd's “The Wall” over and over,
mining every drop of symbolism
to get an A on my paper.
(Shit, I'm still trying!)

Damn it life! Fucking play fair!
All of a sudden, it was the end,
and it just keeps ending.
and it just keeps ending.

Dammit Peterson, there I go again
trying to fix the unfixable
instead of hugging you
tight enough you could feel all of this
but not so tight it bruises.

Dammit Petersen, I need to know
how did you stay so whole
while it ripped your bones apart?

Dammit Petersen! how did we become
so incredibly strong
but so fucking fragile?

Dammit Petersen, where the hell are you?
People keep saying you visit them
showing up as a bird, landing,
looking, and flying away.
I see dozens of birds every day,
and like a dumbass I forgot to ask
which kind of bird you would be.