Instead of Bad News, Inherent Epilogues & Poem by Numbers, by Thomas Zimmerman

Instead of Bad News

She pours some coffee, pets the dog, 
and holds him off with snacks until
her second cup. The headlines crawl
across the bottom of the TV
screen: it’s murder, scandal, mostly
cloudy, and Dow Jones. “I will
not waste my life,” she tells herself.
“I’m finding meaning; giving and
receiving love.” Her irony
ambiguous as Lilith myths.
The coffee’s gone, it’s still damn cold
outside: 16 degrees. She clicks
the dog leash, zips up tight: full armor
for a skirmish with the world.

Inherent Epilogues

1
But science tells us now the scenes lay out   
For days then months then years, but first the grayheads     
Naked in the rain or is this napalm    
Softer than your mother’s hands that fed   

2
You nursing new and old imagined wounds   
Protection safer than a gun Dad brings  
In darkness shot clean through with arrows  
Army blanket, shroud of Vietnam   

3
It’s running with you down the street, could be   
The spell your memory now casts, the river   
Recombined, the scent of vodka, blood   
Self-consciousness impossible to shake   

4
Stop. No, go. Proceed with caution. Blood    
The Chorus merely, footnote to a memoir   
Hand atremble on the coffee cup    
You didn’t know to name it then

​Poem by Numbers

Nine’s the witches’ number.
Six is Satan. Seven’s God.
One’s the loneliest.
Two makes politics.
Three’s all charm. 
Four means death in China.
Eight’s now lying down: infinity.
Five is for the no-count
fingers typing this.

Thomas Zimmerman (he/him/his) teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA. His poems have appeared recently in The Beatnik Cowboy, M58, and the anthology Extreme Sonnets. Visit Tom's website here.​