—CAN’T TRUST NO ONE, CAN’T EVEN TRUST YOURSELF 

 

              I walk my ghost     to the car     to church to Kentucky     to the river’s edge where the water back-talks its mother     the moon     my ghost keeps running its mouth like a threadbare know-it-all     going on about Jeopardy! and NPR     and how Dr. Phil should be excommunicated     my ghost has frayed nerves and upturned regrets     conflicted feelings about its last confession and      the road less taken      at the river my ghost     swan dives in the shallow end     where it breaks its neck on a barely submerged boulder     frantic I carry my ghost to Emergency where     the nurses and doctors can’t stop laughing     telling me Happy Birthday!    telling me Speech! Speech!    even though my tongue has dry rot and    I haven’t said your name in years.