Gary Duehr’s most recent poem to appear here was “Smashville” (February 2018). 

Postscript
By Gary Duehr

Let’s say everything you’ve ever known—
The things that hold you, the way contacts on a phone
Stick to who you are, or how a bus
Delivers you beneath the bridge’s black trusses
At day’s end, the distant lights
Blinking red through the rain—let’s say the rights
To your whole past
Are in danger of being usurped, misplaced.
You simply refuse to believe it’s possible.
Whatever happens, you think, you’ll
Find a way to keep your emotional-DNA intact.
When others argue a fact
That counters what your gut knows, you’re unfazed,
As if they’re speaking a different language.
What is it they’re saying? It’s so hard to gauge.
Are they even words? Dazed,
You drift through the nights in an altered zone
Of your own making, your own
Personal bubble—through a bluish mist
Of cigarette smoke, some sips of cognac, an almost-tryst
Or two. Sigh. You find yourself alone.
The house is empty. Somewhere in the distance, a lone
Dog is barking. You can hear the keen
Whine of a chainsaw, cutting away what’s left. (Scene.)