For my wife, Trin.
Houdini was born exactly
a hundred years before me.
I’ve never escaped from a straitjacket
or an underwater, locked box, but I have
survived three serious car accidents:
one flipped Honda, one Monza driven up
high school bleachers & one Ford rear-ended
at 50+ mph.
I did escape my hometown.
Though there was a time, when
I was reading Gogol & Kafka down
at the beach & throwing my beer bottles
into Lake Erie, that I was content.
The beer, the books, the water, the sun,
were all hard to leave.
Had I stayed on those rocks,
on that shore, I wouldn’t
have found you.
I’d been a corpse, a ghost, a ripple.