An Open Letter to a Nondescript Entity


whom I’ve not yet met

Where will you be 
the day you’re to meet me
at eleven
but will not
show up?

Who else
will you be you loving?

Who will be
catching your eye
over the counter
at a greasy
oil-glazed bodega
at the corner of 
and indiscretion?

Who else
will you be
under the shroud
of the canopy?

Whose sheets
will you be staining 
repair, and
whose screen door
will you carelessly
allowing the household
cat to

The guilt
you should foster
will evade
your ego
which will have gotten
its boost
the night before
from a shadow
the 400 block

Whose palms
will you be burning
with matches
you weren’t 
to have access to
on the day
of your determinative 
bar exam?

What else
will you be learning?

Your ability
to empathize
will be
but the sprout 
may wilt
before reaching
and you won’t
be able
to cry with
your family 
when the youngest
is to die

Whose history
will you be rewriting
to better suit
your own? 

Who will
have called you
in the wee hours
of the morning
just to weep
at the sham
of the life
you’ll have been living? 

To whom
will you owe restitution?

To whom
will you owe money?

To whom 
will you owe time?

To whom
will you owe credit 
where credit is due
for your existence?

Will it be 
blood, or

To you
whom I’ve not yet met

Steer clear
of me
and everyone
that I know
at all costs

Six degrees of separation
will be 
too few 

you’ll know too much
you’ll be too
you’ll hit 
too close to home

So save me
the expense
and make
your presence scarce
in mine
for the sake
of me
for the sake 
of my life
and of
my future

Much obliged


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