Issue
#1

January
2009

a poem by John C. Erianne

 Poem Written on a Day When It Might Rain

I'm sitting in a library
on a day when it
might rain or snow
or maybe the Earth
careens into the Sun

and for some reason
I am thinking about
the only woman I
ever loved enough
to want to marry

and how she married
someone else -- not even
the guy she rejected
me for--

he took his broken
heart to Nebraska

and I took mine
straight to
Hell.

In the intervening years,
I've lost
jobs, lost my
mind

got cancer
survived cancer.

It's simple,
really--

the past is
the past and
all that remains
is either survival
or death

and

the passage
between the two
is just mileage
and keystrokes.

one day I will
run out of both

but probably
not today.

© John C. Erianne

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