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there are fragments of you here


like the can of tomato paste


that came in the meal kit 


that you brought over


one night


(it wasn’t a good night,


but it was a night with you


so now it’s part of our mythology,


something i’d like to index)


and in my shower drain, 


your hair has tangled


around the chain for the tub stopper—


stubborn debris


and i still haven’t re-laced 


the skate shoes i was wearing 


when you lied and had me arrested


the cops unlaced them 


before putting me in the holding cell 


for an hour or two


i guess it was to prevent me 


from killing myself


but the joke’s on them:


i take the subway ads that call


suicide a preventable tragedy


as a challenge


either way, i wore the shoes home that night


unlaced, on july 7th, 2020


when it felt like i could just 


keep walking forever


and wanted to




and it’s october 6th now,


and “rock legend eddie van halen has died”


i’ve been thinking about using that headline


as a non sequitor in a poem


ever since the news of his death broke 


earlier today


there are lots of articles coming out 


all about how “rock legend eddie van halen 


has died”


and i think that the end 


of whatever it is we had


deserves at least as many articles 


as there are about how “rock legend eddie van halen 


has died”


journalists should be accosting us


for interviews


to ask each of us about 


the other


i’d say, “she’s a bitch”


you’d say, “he’s an alcoholic”




those would be fragments, too


Josh Sherman is a Toronto-based writer. His fiction and poetry has appeared in Back Patio Press, Hobart, X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine, and many others. His debut collection of poems and stories, CHARM REDUCTION, is forthcoming on Gob Pile Press in late-2022. Follow him on Twitter @joshxsherman. 

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