Blood

By John Sierpinski

The beginning of an end

Before I gave blood,
the phlebotomist said,
Your last name is misspelled
on your driver’s license.  
Then at the dreaded DMV,
passport in hand, a picture
that doesn’t even look
like now, anymore. 
The clerk telling me to 
wait while she checks 
with her supervisor. I watch
a security guard with his
gun in its holster
ready for what?

Back home in my office, 
I can’t deal with my writing, 
sit blankly looking out
the window. Even the Joshua
trees look lonely. Say to myself,
I’m not writing, ever again.
Then my cellphone rings, and a man
with a mean accent tells
me that a car in Texas has
been found with blood
on the seat, my name
on the registration.

This sets off a time bomb
where I follow his directions,
Don’t talk to anyone.
Buying gift card after gift
card, rattling off the numbers
driving from store to store…
Then my bank where the employee
chases after me, and now my phone
has been sabotaged, my name
and very identity stolen, my peace
of mind shattered.

The beginning of an end.

John Sierpinski has published poetry in many literary journals such as California Quarterly, North Coast Review, and Spectrum to name a few. His work is also in eight anthologies. He is a multiple Pushcart Prize nominee. His two poetry books: “Sucker Hole” and “Vacancy/No Vacancy” have been published by Cholla Needles Arts and Literary Library.