—DON’T LOOK BACK IN ANGER, I HEARD YOU SAY

 

strays

 

your ghost 

was always 

strangling the weather 

and going down on

every stray bush 

so mine was a 

youth that ran amuck 

locked in a coat closet 

pinging off hangers 

and zippers 

each jacket sleeve an 

untrustworthy noose 

if I said I loved you 

the shelves wouldn’t 

stop shrieking hysterics 

if I said I hated you 

the walls would use 

my bones for kindling 

however there’s a

speck of promise 

in almost every 

predicament which 

is why serial killers 

continue their slaughter 

so tell me mother 

why are you still here 

and breathing 

when we all saw you 

lowered into that hole  

we each helped 

fill with dirt