view from passenger seat of moving car on divided highway with dark clouds looming ahead

Driving to Pittsburgh (Goddammit Elton)

Driving to Pittsburgh to bury the body
of my best friend’s mother, I
think about life and the
circle, thanks Disney station,
thanks rental car. The Circle of
Life looks like a circle but isn’t,
it’s a spiral, thanks to Time,
like metal rings running down
the side of a notebook, which
makes me think of how JC,
in love with S, created
a bouquet out of ragged edges
collected from the entire
class. She loved it, she loved him,
we loved them. Then
nothing. He wound up
marrying a woman who
ran off with his cousin.
You guys take whatever you want.
Okay, good, we want the fridge
and the bed. And now I
see them all on Facebook,
liking each others’ kids
and grandkids, including
JC and S, who seem
to be rooting for each
other, which I guess
is a circle of some kind, but
not one that’s neat and not
one that’s whole.
Goddammit Elton,
you filled it with lies,
and we’re left holding
ragged fake flowers,
looking for a love that’s
not going to come around,
ever, for anyone, again.