Cameron Keller Scott
Your absence has made my life full
of absence. Your lack, my lack.
A week after you are gone
ninety nine percent of my body
can reconstruct you as real.
The toilet seat has remained up
seventy five percent of all the hours
of each day to remind me you are not
coming back. Music plays to cut the silence.
I wanted to rock gently to sleep this broken
hearted fool who tries too hard at love.
Whose only lesson has become
all lovers eventually leave. A month.
A year. Iím eighty percent sure
intuition is thirty eight point five percent
proof. Strong enough to row a boat
the wrong direction. On what sea?
The sea of heartbreak. On what night?
Every single night of the year. Who
wants to grow old with a poet? The world
grows tired of us, that we might break
from its dream, reveal too often
the dream itself. Who wants to be
with someone so mad? I am fifty
percent sure I do. To stand so close to
the edge. To feel the breath of the universe
strip us atom by atom, truth by truth.
> Cameron Keller Scott graduated from the University of Arizona with an MFA in poetry. Most recently he has worked for Chiloquin Visions in Progress and Fishtrap as a writer in residence, as well as helping to implement Fishtrap Story Lab (www.fishtrap.org). His freelance work has appeared in High Country News, The Drake, The Flyfish Journal, and The Ski Journal and he currently writes an outdoor column called Steelhead Nation for the La Grande Observer. He is also the author of The Book of Ocho and an editor for A Democracy of Poets, a finalist in the Colorado Book Awards.