Today's poem is by Eric Tran

Commuting by the Confederate Flag on I-40
       

flown half-mast. I want
to write about the suffocating

enormity, but against
the sky's slick skin, it dangles

like a tired bandage.
I don't want to forgive

so easily. I want
to play the angry faggot

but in truth I burn
to know what grief

demotes your pride,
neighbor. Did you lose

your son, a lover,
a dog? Does it matter

my best friend died,
and he was gay?

One of the last things
he said was, Be nice

to me, I don't feel well.
I mean to say we're all

so small. I'm scared
for all of us

to run out of gas
in an unfamiliar place.

Remember? Coasting
Slow, an action

so gentle you forget
to breathe.

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Copyright © 2023 Eric Tran All rights reserved
from Mouth, Sugar, and Smoke
Diode Editions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission