POETRY
When David Bowie Was Dying
by Ally Malinenko

I was probably on the couch,
drifting off after a long
five mile run,
my book, limp between my hands,
the sound of your footsteps
as you rose
crossed the hardwood floors
to get more green tea.
 
It was quiet here,
strangely warm
for January
in New York City.
 
Later we watched a movie,
shared the wine,
went to bed
 
and then you woke me,
gently the next morning,
asking if I wanted to sleep or get up
and I said I wanted to get up
because I thought maybe
we would get some writing done
even though it was technically our day off
and you said
 
Baby, I got some bad news.
 
For an hour we sat on the couch
silent
as if we didn’t understand
the words
that meant
he was gone
 
That all us freaks
had lost our Freak King
and the net he had woven
out of stardust
so that we could find each other
Could be together.
Could love.
 
Our lives so shockingly brief
so terribly small
the time always moving forward.
Forever forward.
We, products of everything going miraculously right,
generation after generation,
So what will you do,
the stars ask each of us,
before your time is up?
How will you spend your finite days? 


Ally Malinenko is the author of the poetry collections The Wanting Bone and How To Be An American (Six Gallery Press) as well as the novel This Is Sarah (Bookfish Books). Better Luck Next Year, poetry collection, is slated for publication in 2016 by Lowghost Press.