Watching Love trite off into the sunset,
that dusty gaucho
making his exit, stock move in a stock movie:
Here comes the dusk, here come the credits.
Love you forever
he said and left.
I stay to the end—
read the rolling print,
the Second Assistant
to the On-Set Director–
oh let the credits ride.
I believed
he would love me forever—
wasn’t Love the lead?
Get along, little dogie,
I’m the last in the theatre.
Lay still, little dogie,
stop roamin’ around.
No one left to come
to my mother’s funeral either.
It’s your misfortune
And none of my own.
Lois Marie Harrod’s 18th book Spat was published in June 2021. Her collection Woman won the 2020 Blue Lyra Prize. Nightmares of the Minor Poet appeared in June 2016 (Five Oaks. Dodge poet and lifelong teacher, she has been published in journals from American Poetry Review to Zone 3. www.loismarieharrod.org
