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My Husband Is Burning

by Jin Cordaro

He doesn’t seem to know that smoke

is rising from his left hand.

His whole right arm engulfed

in flame continues to hold

His cell phone to his ear until his beard is crackling.

He goes to work like this. He comes home

and parts of him are gone.

Still he is on the phone, now holding it in

the crook of his neck, confirming his weekend job

while his feet are turning to ash.

He goes to fix his mother’s garage door,

broken again, and his ear falls off.

Tonight, he tried so hard to hold me

But there was nothing left,

charred socket for a shoulder,

not even a stub for an arm.