and like that she was gone
floated away through some wall
like a ghost
from any kind of collective consciousness
not a single note
no memory
no empty casket funeral
she was just gone
years and years of etching
on this giant lie detector test board
and they sucked her up into the skies
for her to never return
whatever the opposite of a haunting premonition
an unsuspected absence
a great hollow breath
she is no more
and we still go on
polished shoes clacking on blue tiles
to immaculate desks
a seventeen year collection of dust
entire histories thrown into paper shredders
or lost to the awkward halls of the internet
she was gone
her name i remember less each moment
each passing bus i do not board
and someday i too
every petroglyph unetched
every stuttered heartbeat stilled
like that i too will be gone
there is the moment
and there is the great death of the moment
which the next moment does not mourn
we just look forward
like a finger tapping the delete button endlessly
moving backward and forward through a history
distorted and dishonest
a pendulum absorbed in its own rust
like that she was gone
i can feel myself forgetting her name
and my name
and the name of the word i typed before
the word i typed before the word i typed
before the word i typed before


Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

2 thoughts on “AND LIKE THAT SHE WAS GONE”

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