Other Electricities Poem by Liz Oates

(2009)

You’re trying to fall asleep,
Buried by the weight
Of a reoccurring sadness
That I wish I could cure.

It comes creeping back up
When the drugs wear off
And there’s nothing either of us can do
To keep you out of endless parking lots
Where the supermarket is always open,
People are always pushing their shopping carts
And starting up their cars,
And the lights are always on.

You’re thinking about how right now,
You’d rather be anywhere but anywhere
And I’m reading your favorite book.

Two brothers are sitting in a car in Paulding,
Where transparent lights glimmer
And dance in the sky,
Always just too far away to touch
But not too far away to burn.

You turn over onto your stomach
And let your arm fall onto the bed
Which is reflecting the yellow glow
That’s filling up the room.

I consider that a few minutes ago,
You asked me not to touch you,
But pretend to have forgotten,
And slide my fingers in between yours.

The armless one hums to himself,
Getting more and more in tune
With the drone of a snow plow engine.

You give my little hand a squeeze
Then take yours back and twist it
Into the form of a broken shadow puppet,
(Lonely without a shadow)
Because the pain in your wrist
From the pain in your head
That you can’t ever shake
Has been bothering you all day.

His father sits in the attic
All night, every night,
Calling out to anyone but him
Over short-wave radio signals.

I think of how your tendons kink,
(Severed, sewn back together)
Of how you wince in pain
When you play your guitar
And wonder how you manage
To hide the tangle of muscle
Just beneath the surface of your skin.

He wants to be a man in Norway,
Wants to understand the codes
Of speech and frequencies.

I picture the cuts and bruises
That follow you home from work
(Battle wounds from a day in the trenches)
And the scars, standing silently
Like good little soldiers, all in a row
Up the length your forearm.

He knows the faces
Of everyone gone
Through the ice.

I want to be able
To make you feel better,
As if decoding the encryptions
You’ve woven into your thoughts
Could somehow erase
The marks of every affliction,
Past and present, visible and invisible,
But that’s only fantasy,
And you prefer real life.

“Dear, some distances are accidental.”