Adam Stutz

Contract

The suicide note begins “went to the movies—”

It’s a dumb blunt memo

coming from the busted seraphim that set traps in my aging mouth

After all the half-sleep staring contests worrying the tortured riddles

of glass boxes

I think I’m hilarious

a real riot in the quiet moment after my laughter ceases

these picket fences start to feel slippery

& I swing all of these

conniption fits poorly

I lose all my syllables & the dreams I borrow from my younger body

& the fixation on loss means testing loneliness

each blunt knife

in a kitchen drawer conjures the holy stare of a former lover

I fade in the dark

& try looking for the groveling near the bedside table

the slow exasperated exhale disarranging messages

I forget to leave— Oh to go back

to lick intermittent burns in the mouths of strangers

to seek unfulfilled promises in perforated light

a dimming belief

that no longer exists—