I have yet to truly enter the RV

where you spent your last days on this property

This is your tomb. Your shipwreck

And I need to be primed with tools of excavation to enter

Here are the tools I recognize so far:

snorkel swimsuit long pants cigarettes

ignore the rat shits ignore the recounting

of respiratory disease potentials

the snake dens deep thinking spider bites

ignore the dark corners mold the brokenness of it all

broken typewriter gloves then goggles maybe and a face mask—

This tool list is a fluid situation

Maybe I want to save something to unravel

So, I am saying I am not ready

Yet I write to you anyway

/

Cole W. Williams is a poet, essayist, and hybrid writer. Forthcoming work is with Flyway: Journal of Writing & Environment, Canary, and Anti Heroin Chic. Williams recently won the Under Review’s annual chapbook contest for “The Pump” and was recognized by The Florida Review’s Humboldt Prize for the poem “Sunset.” Williams has attended the Bread Loaf Environmental Writers’ Conference, various writing residencies and will begin a Granta memoir class this fall.