i'm asking

he was selling the skull on a sunday, july
'my friend had this 35 years ago
he died in somerville -
i brought the deer back to new hampshire'

'i'm thinking about it'
i told him - i let myself know too

empty eyed, a candleless holder
the wax was his antlers

it reminded me, an always kind of memory of
the thing you said,
something like
'i would have carried you on my back
to the end of the earth, if you asked'

'do you have any rope?'

hollis to somerville
on a bike older than myself
is a lot like the end of the earth

but i would bring myself,
and the thing
on my back
that i carried
was heavy like a leftover lover
and grieved like a casserole

but hung itself so nicely on my mantle
to be looked at and loved,
if only a memory