#3

Rider Backed

He had the joker in his wallet
when they killed him.
The bag was zipped up already,
the last time those eyes looked to the sky
was something like five minutes
ago.

His parents may not yet know the news
I wish I didn't.
A circle of disconnected
officers, smoking their cigarettes
block out the nightmares that come
and go.

His name, Anthony, on his license
tucked in a sleeve
reminds me of a college friend
a magician, who pulled the aces
from the space behind my ears,
and laughed.

I know this isn't him, but again
I see the card
among his loved one's photographs
like a member of the family,
and can't help thinking, maybe?
But no.

What a crazy slip! That was at least
ten years ago.
The kid who's wallet I'm holding
was no peer of mine. The flow of time
and the prank of a joker
fooled me.