A Case of Mistaken Identity


Because ideally everyone wants to be saved,
even you.  Because the moment in which you speak
the word happy never is the happiest moment.
Because the dying instead of saying
I am now dying, only hear a mild hum.
Because words are either too late 
or too soon. Because someone is always talking,
because we all sit in the same boat,
only the poor drown sooner.
Because the ladies of the church 
auxillary services pray over bowls 
of crawfish etouffee, because
they break bread and worry
about their hushands' souls,
because the girl who works at Sir Speedy
makes copies of other people's lives,
because her boyfriend likes country music
--any music, really--anything but rap.
Because that's not her.
Because that's someone who speaks like her.
Because that's someone who looks like her.
Because that's her twin sister.
Because that's someone we all think is her.
Because that's someone who thinks she is her.
Because she is not her.
Because nothing can be done,
because we only see the tip
of the iceberg, because it has no future,
because it is useless to think
about the weight of the iceberg,
because my words are eaten up
with fear, because first comes revenge
and afterwards repetition,
because when the wine dries up
I'll step into the rain,
because the worst is never
behind us.