I Knew You Before You Were
Rusty chains coiled in the cardboard box
I carry to the dumpster & all I am
Thinking is my face is falling off & is yours
Under it & or is someone’s I don’t
Even know—further down, a stranger,
A deadman, a saint, or just a sprawl
Of gravel & then I’m thinking this other thing—
There’s a snake in this box, blacktailed
& then more: there’s a bottomless immensity
Beneath my feet & what a sacrifice
It is each day just to get by, this alchemy,
This fevered life: illness & love,
Lockjaw & slow motion kidnappings—it is what
It always is—chronic dying, shivering with
Unbelievable joy & not knowing a damn thing
About anything as lightning
Jigsaws the horizon. At the garbage pile, I pause—
Take a deep breath & sit on the curb.
Like they’re being sucked into the sky,
The trees’ limbs lift. No cars on
The street—so quiet. So hushed I can
Hardly breathe. Thousands of lives
Are piled into all this dirt we walk
On & I’m waiting, saving it all for you.
Copyright © 2014 Alex Lemon. “I Knew You Before You Were” originally appeared in The Wish Book (Milkweed Editions, 2014). Reprinted with permission of the author.