SHOT DEAD AT 23
for Robert Coughlin
J. Clark Hubbard
I could picture a car wreck
brought forth by buzzing phone OR Mad Dog 20/20 OR a single McNugget falling underneath the gas pedal OR a literal deer in the headlights OR the drum solo from “In the Air Tonight” OR some roided out asshole whose choice of decor is comprised solely of truck nuts OR a misunderstanding at a 4-way stop
I could picture a sickness
polyps of poison expanding and drowning you from the inside OR a sleeper cell sickle cell yawning, stretching, and getting to work OR an eight-year-old sunburn that’s always looked just a little bit off OR a question mark on your medical record that grows as your skin yellows: slow down, prepare to stop
I could picture a mistake
a loose tennis shoe on a looser-still hillside OR only glancing to your left as you cross Demonbreun OR one too many beers and friends who won’t check on you when you pass out OR you fucking around with a gun OR a soapy puddle on a tile floor OR a wild mushroom whose gills and stalk screamed stop
I could picture time
The warranty on these mortal organs running out (god shrugs and says it’s store policy), OR your joints filling with sand, pebbles, the neighborhood children looking around for pop rocks when you get the mail, OR forgetting friends from Boy Scouts OR neurons evaporating through your skull until you simply stop
But I fail to picture reality
Hot brass shells snowing down, your lifeblood painting your doorknob and the concrete outside of your apartment, a silver sedan smoking custom rubber, the humidity bringing out the last beads of sweat on the back of your neck, an ice cream truck’s jingle, you slowing down, coming to the final stop
J. Clark Hubbard is a poet and teacher living in West TN with his partner, Abbey. He is pursuing his MFA at the University of Memphis while working for the The Pinch––Memphis’ literary journal. Clark has been published in Ember Chasm Review, Beyond Words Literary Magazine, and Our Jackson Home, among others. He can be found on Twitter @jclarkhubbard.