Good Bye to All That

Did I tell you Cactus Man tried once again, to Facebook me? Sigh. He sure doesn't get it. He keeps trying to make sure I don't forget him (as if any woman could). But he did inspire a poem. Since he left, December 2009, with his dogs, I've been trying to think of the best image to remember him by while he was here. I did it eloquently with this prose poem. Enjoy!



Excrement



The last winter she saw him, they were stranded in that tiny house, wind howling, snow swirling against the glass, his four giant dogs piled on the couch. One of them tore down her blinds. She stepped on a piece, cutting her foot. Another threw trash all over the kitchen, a cereal box shredded like confetti, coffee grinds ground into the carpet. She wanted his love, but the only communication between them was of the dogs, the brown one always hiding under the table, looking for the man and wanting to go home. After he left, she found fleas in her couch. But he'd sent her an e-mail, “I can't be with you anymore. So long.” Once winter fled, melting three feet of frozen snow, the gutters tinkling with spring, did she find her tiny yard filled with excrement, giant piles of it everywhere, warming in the sun.