this man on the bridge
falling or jumping
or holding a rock with both hands
dropping it
and the windshield of the car below
parting like violent water
the woman's face split in two
and your sister on the phone
saying she's pregnant
blood pooling on the floor where
you've left the idea of a mother
murdering her son with a butcher knife
the sky where it
pours itself over the landscape
the rock as it falls and the woman
as she turns to her husband and smiles
the pair of hands attached to a
person that no one knows
these fifteen crosses planted in
the ground in colorado
and the fact that nothing grows
your sister on the phone
saying she lost the baby
saying the blood
won't come off her hands
and the fact that nothing falls
out of the sky
the way she describes
the fetus to you
the idea that
none of these wars can ever
really be won
the man on the bridge jumping
and then falling
and then breaking through the ice
his apartment
and all of the places
a note was never left
all of the people it was
never addressed to
the body not found until spring