salvage

i just talked on the phone
to a friend
who’s about to go have drinks
with a friend
whose wife just found out
she has a rare form
of incurable cancer
and
has
maybe
five months to live.

we weren’t on the phone
to talk about death.
we were on the phone
to talk about work
and touring
and who can
manage
my band
in the states.

but then
the news of this stranger
and her dying

cut into the
placid lake
of my night

before
sleep.

he told me
she will leave him with
their two small children.

and i see him

her husband
-my friends friend-
who my friend tells me
runs a company
that invents and manufactures
synthetic sponges
that clean up
oil spills.

and on the side
he saves and salvages
boats that are in danger
of sinking into the harbor.

he hasn’t stopped working
at all
my friend said.

he’s in shock
i said.

and
i think to myself
what a wonderful world
what a terrible world

tonight
they will
go to sleep somewhere
together
in a bed
she
with her tumor body
a ticking ship’s sinking clock

and
he
with the daily business rattling in his head
thinking about
his task of cleaning the perpetual mess of a death-fanged and careless world
as the kids sleep soundly in
the next room
(how am i going to take care of these children without her.
without her. without her)

and
she
lies beside him
breathing
like an accordion
like a sinking vessel
like an oil spill
like a whole pacific ocean
that nothing he can ever invent
will ever
ever
be able
to salvage

p.s. you all inspire me to write

column tomorrow, althing on friday

i love you