There have been bodies
under the parking lot
of a popular lunch spot
a hundred years ago,
they decided a cemetery
in the midst of a metropolis
was a little too Ohio
the bodies were hickish,
pulled them up like potatoes
they forgot a lot of bodies
and now to build on them
50 floors of apartments
rented out as air bnbs
they put up white tents
found an arm bone
the bodies left behind
were the poorest
Who says death is an equalizer?
There’s no reason to think
the bodies stop
at the parking lot,
I probably bike over bodies
in high school, on a field trip,
we visited a grave and the girls
in my class kept saying Sorry! Sorry!
as they stepped over the crowded graves.
At the time, I thought they were being precious
now I walk over the earth and apologize at every step.
A.M. Goodhart received their MFA at Western Michigan University. They have published poems in Atlanta Review, Passages North, and Lake Effect. Their collection Neither Kind of Body was a semi-finalist for the A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize at BOA Editions and the Pamet River Prize at Yes Yes Books. They live in Madison, Wisconsin with Molly Grue (the dog) and Garrett Merz (the human).