A History of Disappearances: Billboard
Have You Seen Me? She asked
from the fields that line the interstate,
her face weathered by years of absence
from her body, from her life
that goes on without her, goes on
to high school, to college, to low end
jobs for the local government, and 401(k)s,
but the body, once removed, and her, twice,
lag behind, somewhere below ground, tunneling
in search of one another so they can catch up
with a world that waits for no one.
So her life grows like roots from the moment she was lost,
but it wasn’t a loss as much as a division, a burst fracture
into every possible strain of herself, and that’s enough
to pull anybody too thin to ever see or be seen again.
Anatomy Anatomy
Whale Blue Review

Park that car
Drop that phone
Sleep on the floor
Dream about me
Jimi, you always have a way of taking something average and making it beautiful. I loved this. I stumbled a bit (every time I read this--which was about 5 times) over, "but the body, once removed, and her, twice." To me, it seems disjointed and awkward. I like what you're trying to say, but I'm not sure this is the clearest way to say it. Regardless, excellent piece.