August 2009 – Chris Roberts

Suicide Me

I won’t die by my hand
In a New York gutter
The razor slash… No!
This blood act summons,
Anonymity’s Ghost.
The city has no solicitation,
I seek nature’s reward… release!
Lost of its imagined greatness,
Black city streets, I find no peace.
I’ll take me,
Suicide me,
Away and a ways.
On a northwest trek.
To the frontier,
The Falls –
The American Falls.
Dive down into
The icy azure chop.
The river runs,
Wicked run, river’s run;
Can’t you hear my
Long, slashing strokes?
The Niagara,
My Niagara
Falling splintered,
And white-capped
Always for me.
Phenomenal sheer drop,
She calls forth –
An aquatic narcotic,
To quiet and seal,
In the idyll of my moment.
The volatile fluctuations,
Of a seeping mind.

The Falls;
Huskily her words skim along the mist.
She is alone of the world, as am I.
Together we meet,
Still alone of ourselves.
Down and naked,
Over The Falls.
The world is resplendent,
In its mendacity to itself –
To them – I was an intruder.
So I leave it, it to its self
And in doing so, in my magic,
In my prose and verse,
I depart –
One final breath.
Last of this temporal sphere –
To tumble and crack against the boulders,
Fractured body in its beauty of self –
Unrepentant to all and all of myself.
Chris Roberts published “When the Wolves Ran: A Fable,” in the Powhatan Review in 2003.
The story was nominated for the Pushcart Prize and reprinted in Thought Magazine in 2004.
A colloquial driven story appeared in The London Magazine, also in 2004.
Reviews of his work appeared in Storie: All Write, where his use of native tongue and local
mores were compared to William Faulkner.  The G.W. Review published a short story by
Chris in the Fall of 2008.  Currently, his essay on the New Yorker has been published on
the 3:AM Magazine website, non-fiction and his treatise on schizophrenia, “Madness and the Valuation of And
is currently published on the Hackwriters site, Opinion: Politics and Issues.
Chris writes short stories, poetry and essays. He resides in Brooklyn, New York.

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