The Fiddleback

poem by Scott Kinder-Pyle

I will de-stem the safe
distance that keeps
this speck of blood
hanging around.

You will catch first-
responder-widows
on T.V. and stew
for hours on end.

I will rinse grime
from the plump baby’s
cheek and slice up
seed-speckled pulp.

You will slurp down
that dry German
wine with tablets of
Acetaminophen.

I will toss a salad
with oil and vinegar
dressing into a bowl
gasping for breath.

You will slur combi-
nations of diphthongs
but swear to being
sober and Oh! so wrong.