“Alien” by Brendan Grady (poetry, ’11)

An excerpt from the poem “Alien” by Brendan Grady (poetry ’11) published in Scoundrel Time:

Alien

Hi friend. The Arcadia Machine and Tool .22
fired into your left temporal lobe and now lies
buried in your parent’s yard next to the yellow poppies.

Strange what we bury in language.
The root of temporal is tempus meaning time,
or temporalis meaning temple, which houses the sacred,
the permanent. When you were sober
you’d decline a pint calling your body a temple.

The smell of fresh dirt at the burial seemed to contradict
your theory. A confession: I never understood
your humor, laughed anyways; (also,
I stole photographs from your room.) […continue reading here]