Sliding
down the edge of curtains
certain to binge of the remains of a person
so deep it hurts when she curses
the best parts of a heart driving tin hearses
but the worst is;
(more)
shedding a weeks worth of poisons
poised behind waiters and watchmen
looking too close picking apart these fevers and locksmiths
my daughters are all broken.
Please leave my hands when the course ends
tied up with the coarse ends of cements lands
and godsends.
Letting
the sky fill; like an orphan
with heavy hearths upon the doorstep
waiting and watching for something
worth remembering.(less)