You drifted into this
as a boat unmoored
might drift:

based on past unmoored boats’
in an ocean with such well-known currents.

We suspect you’ll say now that
you were surprised
to end there of all places.
We have to call you out.

This was so obviously
going to happen. We shook
our heads about it
right in front of you.
We said it
right to your face
so often, we’re a little surprised
you didn’t dream about it
every night. It’s as if

you never heard us —
or maybe you did,
and then did everything you could
to be what you shouldn’t have been;

it’s almost as if you were determined
to end up there on that far shore
starving and broke and broken
with no way to come back, almost
as if you were determined to be
as far away from our good sense
as possible, and we’ll be damned

if we know how
or have the wherewithal
to rescue you now — look at you

sitting there, staring into the sun
as if you’d never been told
not to do that.


About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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