Michael

I was not there for the phone call,
not that it matters, since he wouldn't have called me.
We weren't close.
But I still wish I had been there before
Michael's blood got lost.
(It wandered away from his body,
Slicking the tiles. Took a
Wrong turn at the wrist and couldn't get
Back to that left at Albuquerque.)
I don't know how to change anybody's mind,
But in between sweaty moments
I wish I had been there to try,
At the very least try, to keep
Michael from rendering
His own blood homeless, left to
Beg for change
On the bathroom tiles.