A History of Madness 10

I said,
“I went looking for you in the winesinks and in the bars with sawdust floors—
You were not there.”

I said,
“I went looking for you in the whorehouses,
where the women have the names of gemstones
but their eyes are dull and dead—
You were not there.”

I said,
“I went looking for you in the jailhouse and the gutters,
where I kicked over a hundred bums looking for a tattoo as evil as yours,
a blade carved deep with runes that told of devouring hate and desire—
You were not there.”

When I found you floating by the river
your lips were purple like the toga of a god
and the back of your head where the bullet made its exit
dripped slow crimson tears into the water
and you told me many things and afterward I let you drift away.