American Suicide Poem by Christopher Scherer

Madness isn't catching, it's only rising to the
Plagiarized insanity, blinking from the bridges:
a jumper. gone.
Leaning on a ledge, leering twelve-stories down
Upturned tenement faces, screaming,
'Jump! Jump! Jump! ' The gun
Closed in cosmoline and honey - safety - fires.
Not to go alone - never, ever.

As rapid as dropping; solid as concrete.
Howling sirens - windy - missed? Maybe.
Windows rattled; alternatives shattered to pieces,
Prismed in an ashtray.

Caught, cuffed, confessed, convicted.
Sentenced, stripped, strapped and salted.

Seconds last forever - everlasting
Father, free us from our sins, grins,
Boils, wens of change and eczema.
Witnessed.
Fingers, aged with wisdom, clutched tight
Round the handle.
Cocked.

Madness isn't catching - it's falling.

©1990