(for victor clevenger)

victor, I know you’re out there
watching my apartment sink
like the titanic, I know
it’s not that dramatic
it’s really not even as cool
as getting hit by a streetcar in akron

but you were there, no civilization
in your pocket, watching a dragon
and an octopus and the titanic

I’m sorry I can’t make this akron
but in the warmth of the summer
in a time before ice water and unraveling
you watched my apartment sink
as fatalist lovers fucked against
children’s home walls

they left condoms in the street
a telegram to pittsburgh
that brief time when we forgot the h

my neighbor remembers
you asleep on the stoop years after
cigarettes and lighter next to you
not noticing the sun
inching through gingko leaves

if she hadn’t walked up when she did
maybe that sun would gift you
your own iceberg
your own streetcar

I came starboard hours later
john brown in bathrobe
tossed the deadbolt
you were awake and salty
mumbling about slaughterhouses again