In those old detective stories there is
always a reporter in an overcoat
taking photographs of the chalk mark
that outlines where the body fell.
I imagine someone had to actually
straddle the dead and run the chalk
close –if not touching- the edge of the
contortioned shape, and I cant imagine
the feeling of nausea such a task
would bring about on the artist.
Our park. I went there today.
Someone had used a white chalk
to outline the shape of a heart
at the foot of the bench where
I said I no longer loved you.
DQ 11/08/08
