2 Poems | Sarah Cooper

2 Poems

by Sarah Cooper

 

We Thought About It

That’s a lie: I thought about it.

You had cut short on rehab, again,

 

shown up knuckles freshly scabbed

hands clenched for Dad, again, lost your job,

 

again. We could smell addiction

on your clothes: sweat, salt,

 

stale beer. We couldn’t

bandage you or let you slice us.

 

You slept in the room next time mine.

That’s a lie: you passed out. You had been awake

 

for four days: roaming town for

oxy, for yourself & finding sobriety,

 

hating yourself for the reintroduction.

You snored hard, slept for twenty hours.

 

I thought about killing you once,

that’s a lie. I walked into your room,

 

held a pillow inches from your mouth,

saw Gunny Bear under your arm

 

and left a tear on your cheek instead.

That’s a lie: I lay beside you

 

and whispered: Don’t ever come back,

don’t even think about it.

 

 

Always, my mother said,

we bought new shoes

for the kids in spring – their bodies blooming

against ball field backdrops and grass stained knees;

the earth rubbing itself into their skin. Never

did I know those shoes would carry my son so swiftly,

 

how could I know my husband, daughter and I

would choose cremation for Hank?

That the three of us would sit

at an oval table and sign

forms for his body to burn at 1400 degrees for 180 minutes.

 

I watched my husband hand the funeral director

a Belks bag and say

“This was a sweatshirt I bought him for Christmas”

and I felt the bag rest on the table underneath my palms

saw the tears crest over my daughters’ lower lashes

heard the papers rustle

in a folder and

close.

 

---

Sarah Cooper is a native of South Carolina.  She earned her MA from Purdue University and MFA from Converse College where she was mentored by Denise Duhamel.  Her poems have appeared in numerous anthologies and journals including  Sun Star Review, Sling Magazine and Cahaba Literary Review.  Currently, she teaches at Clemson University, lives with an orange cat and writes poems on front porches.

Advertisements