Not living in Mexico
and reading about the new Mexican thriller
they’re confiscating at the border

Leaving your phone in the kitchen
and not your friends or the gorgeous bartender being able to unglue

Having an idea
that you can’t support with reference to court decisions
the way the lawyers do

Having traded small caresses with your wife throughout the day
and making room in bed for your son who’s had a nightmare

Not thinking of yourself as part of the team
but the members insisting
you have to belong to something

Seeing your dear departed father
in the mirror

Very bad:
Your store of twilight safran
drying out in the Cloud
without a pinch of irony

And worst of all:
Dying in the Late Anthropocene
the graveyard washed out
and power down no way to complete the cremation

                                                after Gottfried Benn

*

Benjamin Gantcher is a Pushcart Prize nominee and the recipient of a LABA fellowship as well as residencies from the UCross Foundation and the Omi International Arts Center. His first book of poems, Snow Farmer (CW Books, 2017), was a finalist in many book contests. Gantcher’s first poetry manuscript, If a Lettuce, earned finalist honors in the National Poetry Series and Bright Hill Press contests. His chapbook Strings of Math and Custom was published by Beard of Bees Press. Gantcher’s poems and essays have appeared in many journals, including Tin House, Slate, Guernica, The Brooklyn Rail and DIAGRAM. Gantcher was Poet of the Week at Brooklyn Poets and is a former poetry editor of failbetter. New work is forthcoming in Rhino. He is the editor, publisher and designer of unbound books, “free, downloadable, printable, foldable, downright handsome books” that can be got @benjamingantcher and at https://gantcher.wordpress.com/unbound-books/