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Leif Haven

Carl and Carl

Carl, before the thing with the Jihadists, I was trying
to tell you something. I was trying to tell you that I need you

to be my roommate. I was trying to tell you that I’d love you
to be my roommate. I was trying to tell you that I have

the best stereo and we can throw the best parties and all
of your things will fit. I promise. I think that you were trying

to tell me something then, too. I think you were trying to say
yes, or maybe, “I’ll think about it,” or maybe you were trying to

tell me about your condition, or maybe,
you said something about an exotic pet, that’s ok, I love

crawfish, I love silverfish, or was it
that you were legally obligated to tell me that you were blind,

that you were fabulous, that as a child you were in commercials,

but you couldn’t get it out because of the Jihadists.
Don’t waste your breath now, Carl. Touch my mouth.

Blowback From Perpetual War

Whether or not you’ve got a chisel, it’s time.
It’s been far too long that this mountain was not a monument.
If you start from that side I’ll start from the opposite.
We’ll know the shape of the shrine when we reach it.

You wake up when you feel the sweaty palm.
Of god on your forehead. That’s the shape of the morning.
You wake up when it’s time to confront yourself.
There’s never been a better time for a sandwich.

It’s been a hard time for all of us. We’ve never seen
So many sad dogs. The weather has been less than exceptional.
But we will forge onward and into this mountain.
Whatever horrible cost awaits us at the center.

Leif Haven
lives in Oakland where he writes poems and edits Persistent Editions.