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.