The Loser Poem

Guy Pettit

some grainy needle
pokes a woman with a black cat
that becomes permanent
like this is also your body and it is just perfect
that is how i see it  

then there are rains that wash the mountain. there are rains that sprinkle the faces of spotted deer. there are rains that bring dirt to the river. there are rains that wet her legs. there are rains that cool the asphalt. there are rains sipping long long arms of cool cool trees. there are rains soaking dull gray blankets one after another. then there are rains across the town.

not unlike this
the pill that is actually hard to grab
25mg pill historically hard to grab
denying you your experience
the little projection of two women
trading basketball cards
is trapped in ice
but you’ll never see it 

and otherwise grasses hilly. otherwise mud on the shoulder of the flight attendant. otherwise no loving in the grass that is green stripping blue. otherwise the crispy sand on her back. mosses on the bench press. otherwise a dam of slimy bark by the soldier. a step into the swampy popular ground the world in dirt is otherwise searching.

that’s how these things are seen
given up loose
each little postcard meaning less
there are close ups of our bodies
and they are just perfect
that is not a denial
it means as much as TV
or as much as The Pixies
how much Texas can scare us
the plain onesie of horror
the impossibility of god’s amazon account
the castle selling its smile
selling its birthdays
selling each thing it can for each step away
how the history gets chilled
its chill
frozen into whatever