Someone broke your jaw in Egypt and someone else faked your death in Taipan, said the reports I’d read and sent. Changing Seikos in front of a wavy mirror, I knew none of it could stay true. The electrodes in their unstamped envelope of twenty dollar bills don’t add up to a reduction in the swelling of the waves in your brain, said Art, who claimed he wasn’t raised that way. I didn’t even know about that yet that summer when your head hung out the window and your jaw dripped along the carpet and the foam. I never knew we could have this conversation, even here. I wish what you thought that day would roll to me like a watch winder’s grinding wave.
Theodore Worozbyt is the recipient of fellowships from the NEA and the Alabama and Georgia Arts Councils. His books are The Dauber Wings, Tuesday Marriage Death, Letters of Transit, Smaller Than Death, and Echo’s Recipe. He teaches at Georgia State University.