on a dark manor hiway
their childhood homes are being sold +they weep at roadsides
approaching 30 with simple grins i remember that time in my
prime i’d moved on by then living in semi-sin with #1
but that house sold on the free market is nail-tethered + in
dreams when sailors are busy elsewhere there is the HOUSE
old uncle morty built the emotionally crippled brother of our
father
morty loved cigs +smokey scotch died of throat cancer after
spending 40 yrs. on a leather couch in pj’s but hey i am not
morty’s keeper + digressions bring night weasels
the HOUSE appears all 1950’s+backsplit but it is the garage
always the garage that i find myself in dustbin broken cars
dead cigars horsey accoutrements daddy was a ramblinman
we found adoption papers there (no not the asian bros) up in
a trunk +aladdin briefly fondled our redheaded friend ron but
the genie in the trunk rent a hole the size of say montreal
in the fabric of our nativity scene
+we still get dragged back there where the dustgrime is perma
but we’re in the process of a massive clean up sanitize the family ghost
vaccinate the shit outta them him +would someone throw out the
dead rabbit in the corner fer chrissakes
i’d thought he’d fled!
the horror the horror
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Winter 2020 ..he’s about to be born..
songanddancegirl 