—THAT KID IS JUST A GHOST IN A SHEET

adolescent

      autobiography

you spend

most days

re-engineering

childhood or
the rotted 
and

warped truth

your heart

dry as

a house

of straw

parched tinder

thorny or

horny for

a flame

yet away

from it all

for once

the chain of

constant

screaming

squelched

and you

long tucked

through the

barbwire fence

on the other

side of hell

lie on a

rock bed

wind whipping

your chin silly

not a relative

around

not a friend

you can claim

no one
at all

as you name

the clouds

give each one

first and lasts

timelines

and biographies

gaze left

or right

over at

the buttercups

and daises

filling the slim

space between

crevice and hope

while the oaks

and evergreens

sway laconic

slander the truth

for your benefit

nature verdant

and un-foolable

it being

the only thing

you know

that’s unbroken

and trustworthy

the billowed sky

soft as a

blown kiss

shouldering

your fears

shooting you

prisms

and a wink

elbows erasing

every awful tuft

writing a

different story

your first

and best

happy ending