New poem: "The Sucide"

  

The Suicide

 

Mark was standing on the street corner in front

of the St. Jude Café one day in the pouring rain when

I drove by on my way to give an estimate for a new

job, and an hour later he was still standing there; so, I

stopped and asked him to get into the car; —

 

We drove around town for a while, he not saying

a word out loud, when to his complete surprise I asked

him why he talked to himself. He looked at me like

a kid who had just been caught stealing, and he

fearfully said, “How can you tell?”

 

By the look in his eyes, I knew what he suspected;

and I said, “I’ve been where you are, Mark; and I can

tell.” But this was not enough to convince him that

I did not have psychic powers; and to allay his fears,

I clarified, “I know the symptoms.”

 

Then I drove out of town, to the Five Mile Lookout

overlooking Lake St. Jude that empties into Lake

Superior, and I tried to talk Mark into going for help;

but he insisted he was alright, and all he needed

was a job to keep his mind preoccupied; —

 

I told him it did not matter what he did, his demons

would destroy him if he did not know how to transform

them; and within a month of our conversation that

rainy day, they found Mark’s OD’d body decomposing

in the bedroom of his apartment.

 

Composed in Nipigon, Ontario

Date unknown: 1990-2000