Jordan Baker

Assembling Entropy

I’ve been here before, a broken record,

no one to raise the needle off the spinning black disk,

its time, my time that was our time well spent.

Skip down the basement stairs, a hundred times over

to where you are still, quiet but for the smell

of your pipe gifted to the walls, wrapped in brown.

Are you brown now?

The light switch flips but only the weak sputter

of florescence illuminates a habitat for spiders,

not fathers, not you, never did you belong down here

before your time, assembling your toys, hanging your trophies.

Perhaps if you made just one more model airplane you could win.

Flight to your funeral, this bag of peanuts

and pretty stewardesses not enough to answer hunger,

I don’t understand, I’ve never understood, why should I understand where you are now?

Trembling more than boys in cold tents, on journeys into frigid wildernesses,

you took us there, you brought me here.

I’m not sure I can forgive the insult to my comfort.

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