Written Off

Who shall I ask
Who shall I ask —
Who — shall I ask

About this daily pain
The dead — long gone — don’t hear
Nor does God
The ones close by —
Want nothing to do with my pain
Want only what they can gain

People next door, on the street —
What would they do
Call the ambulance
The police

Sirens, flashing lights
Uniforms — nameless faces descending
Pest controllers with sprays
Chemicals, masks, gloves —
To fumigate, excise, exorcise
Investigate — a hundred questions
Asked, written, reported
The building condemned — cordoned off
Boarded
The body — strapped, sedated, carried away
Handed over

To others —
From next door, down the street
Close by or far away —
Gathered in buildings built to care
Drop your car at the garage
Hook up machines, pipes, pumps
Spanners, wrenches, cutters —
And trained mechanics — professionals
Paid to fix, to service
To serve —
And care

For your aching body —
Your shredded soul
Your torn heart
Your screaming mind

Who shall I ask —
Masked, gloved, uniformed
Mechanics
God
Or no one

Shall I take this car —
To the garage —
To be told it’s written off
Take my belongings out
Leave it there
To be scrapped, disposed of

Or dispose of it —
The pain — myself
Leaving the belongings
Here —