The Back of My Throat

Today I am
desperate
for love again,
a toyless toddler,
a junkyard dog
gnawing on its chains.
This sidecar rain wants
no part of me.
The old eagle shivers
in its elevator nest.
The trees sob and moan,
their limbs tight
with arthritis.
I could try talking
to myself,
raise a rifle to the moon,
or stitch up this
seeping wound.
All I need to know
in moments like these
is an answer:
That last kiss—
did you mean to leave
a grenade in the
back of my throat,
or were you just playing
Charades again?

Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington State and the author of four books, most recently a poetry collection, The Dishonesty of Certain Mirrors, out now from Červená Barva Press, and This Is Why I Need You, a story collection forthcoming from Ravenna Press in June of this year. You can also find him at https://lenkuntz.blogspot.com.

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