Three Poems



he shoves a rusty crowbar into my hands

i want you to climb up on the roof
tear up some of the shingles
make it look like storm damage

he guides me to the battered
aluminum ladder leaning against the house

hurry before a neighbor sees you

mothers intuition

over maxwell house coffee
and all the fixings
and toasted cinnamon raisin bread
sagging under heaps of no salt butter
i knew i was dying she said bluntly
as she sawed a piece of toast in half
like a butcher attacking a carcass


your life is like a sweater
she wheezed weakly between
stolen gasps of oxygen from
those goddamned plastic tubes
pull a string and you never
know what will unravel and
then i found myself laughing
there was never a time when
i didnt love you she said
as if i didnt already know

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