A Poem About Nothing

by DAN ALBERGOTTI

ELAINE: [reading an invitation] India? Yeah, right. [sarcastic] I’m goin’ to India. . .
—final line of Seinfeld episode 164, “The Betrayal”

But you did, Elaine. You boarded that plane out of sheer spite for the braless bride and then ended up (yeah, right) her Maid of Honor. So you’d slept with her Peter/Pinter some other year. Who cares? You felt a prick to be her pick, that twinge the hinge on which time turns and flows away from urns, caskets, and headstones. Reversal of flow, a new life, now seemed possible. It seemed. But time only flows one way, I’m afraid. Credits are still etched at the end. The body’s still betrayed.

DAN ALBERGOTTI is the author of The Boatloads (BOA Editions, 2008), Millennial Teeth (Southern Illinois University Press, 2014), and two chapbooks from Unicorn Press: The Use of the World (2013) and Of Air and Earth (2019). His poems have appeared in 32 Poems, The Cincinnati Review, The Southern Review, The Best American Poetry, The Pushcart Prize, and previous issues of storySouth, among other journals and anthologies. He teaches at Coastal Carolina University.