harpoon

she’d stabbed and killed someone with it –
all for looking at her in the wrong way –
and my job was to wander brooklyn
looking for a place to bury that harpoon forever.
she led me by the hand to her walk-in closet,
pulled out the harpoon, and wrapped it up
in plastic bags from macy’s.
I took it, left her apartment,
walked through the projects, made a right at
the liquor store that says “wine and spirits” in
a lame, serif font, headed west onto the street
where she once nearly revealed the truth.
after a few hours I made it to the docks.
standing by the water, I guessed she had lied
about killing someone with the harpoon.
brooklyn was sinking into the water like atlantis.
by dawn, the korean deli, chinese takeout,
and basketball courts would all be
at the bottom of the sea. I’d wade through
the water at dawn, wielding the harpoon
and ready to throw it at whoever
tried to tell me the truth.