—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
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