Allison Titus

THE DEPARTMENT OF QUIET FAILURES

Body,                   are you harmless placebo & petal & quick to vanish into the basements 

of your youth           record skipping fuzzed-out zenith

dim bulbs eternal             are you spin the bottle 

are you too nostalgic                 a late bloomer

are you heatwave summer in the woods behind the school                summer spent 

flush               summer that trespassed          in the gloaming             

are you landline confessional               or private in your station                  

are you keeping time, basking in the flux

of it                the crux of the meanwhile

are you ancient around the bonfires we lit      white hot wingtip 

strobes from planes mimicking stars 

are you plush the thicket            

are you late in the game

are you good for nothing in the face of it?

are you holding out for more though the hour grows late                  

are you elegant in your refusal              

are you tending the rookie phlox so careful            

kneeling in the dirt            

on the little span of earth 

that holds you in place?

are you listening

are you finally coming to            

in the aftermath                

of the latest disaster 

are you rehearsing the worst-case scenario

are you even who you say you are anymore

are you gentle with the endings   i.e., the letting go 

the way the sunlight deepens to shadow                  

& you’re sitting by the phone     

two weeks 

& still no word

are you held by silence

are you standing just off-camera & ready 

to plead your existence:      let alone worthy    let alone 

worthwhile               

to the Board who wants to know         are you productive or sentient 

before they come to a consensus

Here in the Department of Quiet Failures 

Here               where you are waiting

so tender in your body 

of grief.