Trace Evidence Poem by Bryan Riley

I found my coffee cup amid
a wierd configuration of
knives on the kitchen counter
somebody was building a strange
pyramid I can't describe because
it has no name.
Later in the morning, I left an
abandoned banana peel alone
on the grassy edge of the beach.
It called to me to find it a home,
but I was too disgusted to touch it.

My sister has strange people
tromping through her house:
they were voices in the
background on the telephone.
My lake is really a river, but you
know that whatever you call a thing
becomes its name

Last night, I remember the drive
home being unusually quiet,
even for a Sunday
Earlier in the afternoon
(this was yesterday)
I stopped by the river
(not my lake, the other one)
I ate my burger and fries-
looking out at the water, I saw
a lone man in a kayak, just
bobbing up and down
like a living buoy
(that's a play on words)

I wiped my mouth, and left my
DNA on that napkin by the river
They might come looking for me,
but they won't ever find me-
They have no idea who I am.