I Think I Would Do It Like This I’d choose not to show up to work one day, the day they needed me the most. Choose not to answer my phone even if I saw that whoever was calling was someone who loved me. I would let the whole first day whirl on past, just looking at people at the cafe downtown, watching them slump to work, and then after night fell I’d find an unlocked and unloved car to sleep in, even if it took until the Moon, caught in a violet and trembling nest of stars, was pleading with me to stop and dream. And then on the first morning of my having left the world, but after I ate, I would hitchhike safely until I got to the beach of California. Once there, I would begin to reside where the waves arrive. I’d bathe in the foam and sand when the coast was clear and I’d only venture into town to hang around the supermarkets, right by the registers. As soon as I’d hear a cashier being given a hard time by a customer, I would spring into action, getting right in the customer’s face with all the screams I myself have never screamed, the ones I’ve been afraid to scream because I knew love would leave me if anyone knew what my heart looked like when it was broken. You’d see me on the news, and then you would never see me again.
About the author
Rich Boucher resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Rich’s poems have appeared in The Nervous Breakdown, Eighteen Seventy, Menacing Hedge, Drunk Monkeys and Cultural Weekly, among others. Rich serves as Associate Editor for the literary magazine BOMBFIRE. He is the author of All Of This Candy Belongs To Me, a collection of poems published by Jules’ Poetry Playhouse Publications. Peep richboucher.bandcamp.com for more. He loves his life with his love Leann and their sweet cat Callie.