You’re on the List

I’ve got
a lot of damning to do:

goddamn russians!
goddamn bicyclists!
tailgaters,
bosses,
telemarketers—

yeah, I’ve got a list,
a goddamn goddamn list,
and you’re on it—

you are between spilling
bleach on my pants
and hammering my thumb

yet here you are again,
showing up unannounced

telling me to
run inland from the coasts

to fear earthquakes
and volcanoes

that life is good and we’re all
going to die—

but this time

this time

I will take out
a pencil, a book of matches
and a chrysanthemum

and I will show you
each place your name is
etched into that goddamn list

and for each I will choose
how best to forget you.