by Ryan Tracy
It didn’t take much. Just
a popped breaker I assumed
overpowered by the A/C
in the living room.
You weren’t home.
So I braved the basement
alone and found only
the part of my life
I let you be responsible for.
Ample, empty—practical,
home to dust and a waiting quiet
as old as the earth itself.
I could have called you
but you’re allergic to answering.
And what they say about loss
is probably true. Better to find it
before it finds you.
Ryan Tracy is the author of three books of poetry: Provincetown Purples (2026), Lines in the Shed (2025) and Tender Bottoms (2023). His poetry and fiction have appeared in PANK (2019 Pushcart Prize nomination for fiction), The Sugar House Review, Feral, Twin Bird Review, The Hyacinth Review, and Chronogram. Ryan performs, makes art, and teaches literature.
