Dead Deer

on the way home i saw a dead deer on the side of the road

or at least i think it was dead – i don’t think anyone – even me – sleeps that awkwardly

there was nothing i could do

except write this poem

lacking the sun and the warmth of the concrete

she was crying out when i noticed her

i wanted to help, i wanted to help

i swear i tried

i guess i have to hate you now

an anguished groan in men’s pajama pants

the freedom thrill of rushing across a busy highway

i tried my best i slowed to a stop i drove by and cried please believe me when i say i tried my best

and we saw an ambulance and nothing else, that must be a good sign, right?

and all i saw was life extinguished at uncomfortable angles, and a girl making all this death all about her

oh god what else could i have done?

‘nothing’ she says ‘nothing, you did your best’

stroking my hair and buying me milk duds

in the car she opened her arms to me and our own charcoal lines were smudged and in all of the pain maybe something good was finally found