From A Dust Jacket by Rob Kaniuk

    he was your god

    you’d quote his good word

    Hosanna on high

    when you were caged

    we had a deal though—he’d leave me alone

    so what’s this shit?

    a year to the day

    one year from the bathroom floor

    where you met your god

    three letters from a dust jacket

    fall like priority mail

    to the hardwood

    what did you tell him?

    we had a deal—he balked

    now he delivers the fucking mail

    april 4, 2011: grandpa died

    april 4, 2012: grandpa died a year ago

    tell your god I read them

    when you sent them

    addressed from a florida prison

    you made it out

    you let him know

    I’d deal again

    if he can take back

    the call I made to your mother, the one to your wife

    if he can take back the sounds your sister made

    I’d make a deal


    Rob Kaniuk is a proud uncle. He works as a union carpenter in Philadelphia where he writes on his lunch break. His debut publication in Schuylkill Valley Journal (spring 2017) was nominated for a 2018 Pushcart prize (nonfiction). Rob has attended the Yale Writers’ workshop 2018 & 2019.