Missing

when you stepped into the station
to report him
missing

it was not like TV

you expected an inspector
creased with concern
in a room as lit and as quiet
as a leafless winter
handing you a cup of tea

fluorescent tube buzz and green
is altogether different

hang on,
I'll just check if we still have those forms

the faded posters stare
five year old haircuts and typefaces

the bent anorak vomits
on the floor
gun holster hips and black boots
move with the mop

name?
no, your name?
how tall?
what colour?
what pattern on his shirt?
do you have a recent picture?
hold on a tick,
sorry,

yes, Lil, good news,
someone handed in your coat
no, no,
there was no purse in it
no, we checked
how much was in it?
do you have somewhere to stay tonight?

the constable's handwriting is poor
like a doctor's
yarns of ballpoint cotton laid out
in some ancient art of divination
there are two esses in depression

how long has he been missing?
has he been in trouble before?
wait here
I'll look him up on the computer

radios speak and choke
choke and speak
bent anorak rocks forth and back
the styrofoam steams
the air is green with disinfectant

keys and chains
bell the come and go
calculator keypad door lock
vests and pants of many pockets

he's pretty clean
we'll put out a bulletin
is this the best number to call you on?

you suppose
you haven't been back to work yet
and the home phone only goes
to message

you guys can trace his SIM,
you say,
bank accounts, camera frames
from petrol stations,
form a red triangulation

constable rubs the level back of his crew cut
well, no
it doesn't really work that way
it's not like TV
I'll make a photocopy of this
here's the number of the station
let us know straight away

if there's anything you've missed.

This poem appears in

Pass it Along