King of the Elements

Through the sliding
glass door the TV playing
slant to the balcony,

his chairs catch ash & keep him
close to life’s purchase. A bed big
enough for two considered

wholes. Sitting in his
dentures and smoker’s belly,
not yet fifty.

It was just life, he says, as in
just moments ago, not only.
The things that don’t

break down are killing us & all
it takes to break something
on purpose for the first time

is noticing the tang on close
breath that smelling makes
you question if what you caught

was true. Smelling again, purposefully
now, that it might get truer.

Jonathan Manning is a poet in Los Angeles, and makes his living editing comic books. He is grateful for your time and readership.