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survivors of the sky

by Gabriel Ricard

It ruined him.
It ruined absolutely everything good about him.

But she loved him,
swore she heard whatever song was stuck
in his head. While the six thousand car pileup behind them
screamed, loaded guns, pleaded with the heavens
and prepared torches from spare tires.

He sat in the living room,
drank bleach chased with bleach-flavored vodka
and didn’t move from his father’s chair.
For what he believed was a six-day weekend
that only he could see.

But she loved him,
promised to wipe the three a.m. sweat
from his forehead. Promised to marry him in August,
and even promised to see him an hour before the wedding.

Stars were disappearing, he said,
and the survivors of the sky were banding together
to say something ugly about the two of them.

The August wedding was beautiful,
and no one was ever really sure who paid for it.

Her grandmother refused to smoke outside,
and she had some new theories about The Holocaust.
His father didn’t say a word to anybody,
and he left in a stolen car before the reception.

“Some of us just have to get as far away
from the moment as our second heartbeat can carry us.”

Someone told her that when she was a kid.
It would have been heaven that day, she thought, to remember
who, hold them close and wait for a second sentence
to drift on by.

Might be a ridiculous sentiment,
but she saw so many examples of it
on such a gorgeous day
that it kind of made her want to cry
through the whole ceremony.

Didn’t happen though,
and no baby birds were harmed
in the making of the pause
that lives between afternoon and evening.

Although two kids stole a bottle of champagne
and were found a block down the street picking fights with cop cars.

It could be love, she thought,
walking barefoot through the AstroTurf
of a church that ran out of poor wretches to feed.

She smiled when she saw him waiting beside
the friend who didn’t want to be the best man,
and she didn’t once look across the street
to see if he was still watching her poolside
from the motel across the street.

She expected him to leave a message
on her phone later that night.

05/18/2012

Posted on 05/18/2012
Copyright © 2024 Gabriel Ricard

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 05/19/12 at 12:54 AM

I love what sleeps within this poem...and what is fully awake. Of all illusions in the world, the most universally received is the concern for reputation and glory, which we espouse even to the point of giving up riches, rest, life, and health, which are effectual and substantial goods, to follow that vain phantom and mere sound that has neither body nor substance, but merely an idea. Delighted. Thanks.

Posted by Vikki Owens on 05/19/12 at 01:06 AM

“Some of us just have to get as far away from the moment as our second heartbeat can carry us.” damn. that hit me like a punch in the gut. exceptional.

Posted by George Hoerner on 05/19/12 at 01:35 AM

One more added to the pile of good writes! Very nice Gabe!

Posted by Ken Harnisch on 05/21/12 at 12:40 PM

Agree with George..one more on the pantheon of superbly imagined poems, Gabriel

Posted by Meghan Helmich on 05/21/12 at 03:51 PM

Really like the title. And the piece has your signature voice all over it. Nice work!

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/22/12 at 10:27 PM

The stuff of dreams, and what nightmares are made of. Even they have an entertaining beauty to the human psyché, which in one sense disturbs me, but in another, reassures; thanks to your poem.

Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 05/24/12 at 09:34 PM

I have rread this poem three days this week, finding something I love everytime but I like ViKKi am partial to the jolting honesty of "Some of us just have to get as far away from the moment as our second heartbeat can carry us.” That and the desperation of "but she loved him" as if trying to convince herself...raw, powerful prose as always and worth the quirks of logging back in again to leave a comment.

Posted by Glenn Currier on 05/28/12 at 09:46 PM

I have been away too long from reading here on this website, and after reading your poem, I realize I missed it more than I was aware. This piece takes me in its artistic flight. I agree with Viki and Sandy about my fav lines. You are a gift, Gabe. Thanks.

Posted by Elizabeth Shaw on 06/02/12 at 05:22 PM

this reminded me of what happens when we get caught in the momentum of meeting expectations & what we leave behind ... diddo re favs ... nice ... thnx

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