dying of cancer saying her prayers they came to bathe her she asked if would hold her Rosary… “of course”
dying to stay in tune they rattle eagerly to play one last song
the only boss i care to listen to on Labor Day
every drum in the world pales to the bang the crash the beat of her
seven years ago almost home coming over the bridge from a show in The Windy City we hit the ice
when it is most impossible to be there for yourself
when the neighbors would bang on t… screaming through them telling him to stop for the love of god it is three in the morning
when she doesn’t love you the guts are pulled out from insid… life spills from the bones and your heart forgets to beat you become a ghost
on the surface you are correct he was an asshole a drunk maybe even
in third grade i confessed to my c… i didn’t know who Joe Montana was because i didn’t watch football the boys were quick to emasculate… and i was ready to punch their lig…
dawn is a coffin stars take their graves in morning come night, resurrect
race against midnight an eleventh hour dash for the quick finish
(a) his job (b) his home (c) his girl (d) his mind (e) his life
the friction ridges on his fingers are different than most where there are usually arches there are the shapes of broken hea… and laughing faces
the Allen Bradley Tower clock looks at me like an all knowing ey… it tells me “you are home you were not born here