Death Will Set Your Day Right
pigeon cleaning her wings
perched on brass feather of
General So-and-So’s statue
we have each other’s
embrace a few
years at most
could be we
engineered this wrong
wobbled into universe fixing
long goals with a toothpick
I am greedy too with time
have given myself to the hem of it
walked on knees for gifts to continue
longing pushed to the back of the barrel
listened to draining wound paddling its waters
hold us upwards Shadow it is by you we are cradled
I am not a masochist I tire quickly from pain
interrogate fly swatter
knife and fork as
accessories to
a crime
how many
times do I forget
I must die?
((((((((( simple (((((((((
as many times
...
You have reached your article limit
Sign up for a digital subscription and continue reading all new issues, plus our entire archives, for just $1.50/month.
Already a subscriber? Sign in
