Issue 1: George Bishop

Leaving

She didn’t say anything

that hadn’t been said before.

However, this time more roads

had been closed and the animal

in me began to look up, take notice,

through not so innocent eyes.

We’d both seen it coming

though from different directions.

In the end it didn’t matter,

all the answers had long since

pulled over and begun the endless

walk home.

She asked if I wanted anything

and I said nothing because

I wanted everything—

I could only think of

door and window locks,

the roof, foundation and walls

that once made leaving

something staged, an event

that took us to the far reaches

of another room, a drama

we both tried to direct

but only produced.

We’d become our real names

and that’s all we knew

one another by, individuals

neither of us would think

of stopping to ask directions

or even the time.

--George Bishop




Table of Contents     Previous Page     Next Page