there’s been snow on the ground for sometime
and the snow hasn’t fallen from the sky in a few hours
I sit in a parking lot in the middle of the night
only lit by a few sparse lampposts
I sit at the foot of giant wood carved bear
he is standing on his hind legs
his mouth is open
no growl escapes
he holds a sign
it welcomes me to wherever I am
I say, “hello”
he doesn’t respond
I almost get mad
then realize
he’s a bear
he could do whatever the fuck he wants to I guess
I smoke a cigarette
I try to guess what is smoke and what is my breath on the exhales
a small white car comes into the parking lot
drives all the way over
passing tens of spaces
to get right in front of where I sit
a door opens
and a small Mexican women jumps out of the car
she is bent over
dressed accordingly for the weather
gallons of vomit fly out of her mouth at top speed
hitting the ground
splattering back up at her
spots of pinkish bile cover her glasses
she heaves and heaves and heaves
none dry
all wet
very very wet
she begins to straighten out and stand up
this upsets her stomach some more
back down she goes
screaming
having her screams choked out
by the onslaught of thick pink chunky vomit
steam pouring out of the hole in the snow where the vomit has landed
she finally straightens
blood starts running down her nose and onto her lip
the blood keeps coming
finally five people jump out of the small car to hand her napkins
she puts her head back with the napkins
blood all down her coat
the snow at her feet turning red
they are shouting in Spanish
words that I don’t know if I ever heard before
I can’t tell if they’re angry
or if they’re just shouting to heard over her cries
they finally push into the car and drive away
passing tens of spaces
and leaving me alone in the parking lot
in the middle of the night
smoking a cigarette
and trying to guess
what is smoke and what is breath when I exhale
This poem is from the out of print chapbook The Exhausted Bird. You can get that chapbook and 5 others, bound together in the upcoming collection of mine, Fingering the Mundane! But I need your help!
Get your copy of FINGERING THE MUNDANE my early poems. It’s a collection of 6 out of print chapbooks. 250 pages of poetry!
