We Are Gods Tonight…

I’m in charge now.”

Chip doesn’t know I overheard.

He talks under his hand

Into his cel-phone.

What the fuck? In charge of whom?

You’re going full Alexander Haig?

Your sister Renee just died. Gone.

Her still-warm body is there in her living room.

I’m completing her death wish.

I’m to lead.

Five minutes ago, I wasn’t sure how.

But black denim dreams guide well.

Marshall Bliss, Lakota son of a bitch,

Taught me things

As he ripped me a new asshole.

Death is different.

Call on the grandmothers.

Call on the grandfathers

And get the hell out of the way.

They bear Renee’s body

Out to the patio. She’s Cleopatra now.

It’s evening. May 16, 2010.

Kazi plays Bach’s 2nd Suite in D minor on her viola

We’re gods tonight. So let’s be good at it

Strip, bathe, bless and anoint the girl.

Calla lilies. Zinnia petals. A rose.

The deadened bastards will be here soon.

Soon enough to take her away.

I pull away. I get to cry

Watching the gentle touch of Team Renee

As they prepare their dead friend. My moon.

I see their intimate movements of grace

Within the starfed luminous space.

A hand rests on my shoulder.

I hear Chip’s voice say,

“You’re going to be all right.”

If I had a knife

Its blades would be gray and dead to warning.

I’d spin like a condottiere.

Mercenary blood afire. Sure-knowing of balance.

Two sweeps. That’s all it would take. Efficient strikes.

Just enough to sever the cartoids in Haig’s neck.

I do turn,

Hold the line

And say,

“Get back to your sister”

“Back to where your supposed to be.”