Regular Poem: In Medias Res

12 Apr

They say
good stories
start
in medias res.

Almost all stories in real life
do.
You’re talking
to somebody you’ve just met,
and she’s telling you
about Brian
and the dog track,
and you don’t interrupt
to inquire about the identity
of Brian,
the location
of the dog track.

You listen with your binoculars
and telephoto lens
in your ’90s Firebird
on the stake out in your mind,
spilling stale brain coffee on yourself
as you investigate, put the pieces
of this person’s puzzle
together.

It’s even better
when the story has a lot of exposition
but the kind that only adds to the mystery.

She’s telling you something about Brian
and the dog track
when suddenly she’s
also telling you

every detail
about why the dog track
is no longer operable
and why it was not converted
into a casino.
There are dates and figures
and conspiracy theories.
You still don’t know
who Brian is.
Or how all these loose ends
will ultimately be woven
into cohesion.

In the Law and Order
episode in your mind
where you’ve moved on from the
stake out scene
to the interrogation scene,
you’ve got her behind a two-way mirror, and she’s spilling, and
you’re waiting.

But it’s not like that.
Not really.

The assistant district attorney never
shows up.
You flip the channel
before the concluding
court scene.

You leave
with a piece of somebody–
that piece
perpetually
in medias res–
somebody somehow decided
to bestow upon you.
And you also know
a lot more
about the dog track.
Wherever it is.
And you still don’t know
who Brian is.

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