We are marching in Washington against War in Iraq and you are the bravery I want to be. It is fall and there are no cherry blossoms left. We don’t feel their absence. Only the frenzy of bodies marching in Washington. I am following you. It is 2005 and I am in love with being next to you. You don’t know, I never told you, that July I tried to swallow all the flies but didn’t die. Only four months later, and I was in love with marching in Washington, holding my peace sign, following after you. John, I can’t stop seeing you hang from the geolab ceiling. It’s not true. I wasn’t there. I don’t know what clothes you wore, if your hair was bleached like the obit pic. I keep saying this isn’t even my death to grieve, really, and grieve a little more.
STEVIE EDWARDS is a poet, editor, and educator. Her first book, Good Grief, received the Independent Publisher Book Awards Bronze in Poetry and the Devil’s Kitchen Reading Award. Her poems have appeared in Verse Daily, Rattle, Indiana Review, Devil’s Lake, Salt Hill, and elsewhere. She is the Editor-in-Chief of Muzzle Magazine and an Assistant Editor at YesYes Books. She is currently a Lecturer at Cornell University, where she recently completed her MFA in creative writing.