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Suicide Note Composed on a DayGlo® Post-it® Pad

Michael Quattrone

Apologies, my love,
I am a millionaire
of those, but every time

I try to conjure you
in your magnolian gown,
the dogs leap up

upon it with
their muddy paws,
and soil my poem.


Not to worry,
I put them down (and
then stopped by

the drycleaner’s
this afternoon.
And Wing says hi).


The taxidermist’s
number’s on
the fridge

(make sure Ollie
makes that face
he always made—

you know, the one
that’s funny
but afraid).


I don’t mean for me!
I’d rather be

over Tuscany
on a rainy Thursday
with no breeze.


Rufus should look angry
like he got
right before he humped

the ottoman
and nuzzled open
the grandfather clock

where we kept
his bones and liver
treats, and Ollie’s balls.


Don’t invite my parents,
or my friends.
But Wing can come

and that good pal
of his (do you think
Wing’s gay?!).


Oh! I almost forgot,
your mother called.
I said goodbye and

she gave me
the time of day and
the family’s secret

recipe for stroganoff.
It’s in the fridge for you
to heat, and it’s

delicious! Love,

Michael Quattrone

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