Bulletin: Arson Suspect Arrested

I watched the fire commissioner standing

behind the talking head

on a TV suspended 

above a treadmill I've seen him use

in our run-down gym.

The police chief was announcing

that an arson suspect 

had been arrested.


The commissioner's  cheeks 

twitched grief. 

One of his men,

one of his comrades, 

one of his brothers,

a father of two little girls,

had died in the fire when a floor collasped.

Eventually he came to the podium but

I could not hear him.

Bonnie Raitt was howling

through my iPod — about a loss, no doubt —

in a wail that seems substantial, usually,

but was hollow, like a lone drumbeat, now. 

I pumped up the speed 

and sprinted full bore.

I did not want to hear him.

I did not need to hear him.

I could see his eyes.

I could see his cheeks twitch.

I could not imagine his rage.

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