Yeah, I’ll joke about the gunshot
that the soundguy is going over
for the free play in the park.  You
already know I will.  The sound
has already knocked four crows
out of the planted trees, and yes,
there they go gliding, all their
negative floating off the delicate
backlit leaves.  You already know
I will.  You can hear the sound
forming in the back of my throat,
which to you is like the back part
of my mind.  You already know
I will.  You can already hear
the joke implying your parents
and the soft blankets they’ll bring,
the cool sandwiches, the bowel of
tomatoes.  You already know I will.
They’ll just think someone backfired,
the joke would say, if I wasn’t resting
with the crows, the black crows that
almost seem silver now.  I almost
would be able to see your parents
and say, Here they come, because
here they come walking, but I am
with the back part behind me, trying
to think of a late line in the play,
because I thought I knew all the lines
to this one, and once, in a room that
looked nothing like this, my best friend
once shot me thorough me left leg.