the body found
unexpectedly
washed ashore
3000 miles away from this
small pool of clean light and
then given a name
and do you believe in beauty?
look out this window
at these houses built by men dead
before i was ever born
at these children with their
vacant stares and clutching hands
and do you think about
hinckley anymore?
about all of the poems you write
that no one will ever read?
and what about the unborn child?
what about the husband
or the blood in his smile?
and wherever you go you'll
find these sixteen year-old girls
and their babies
tiny kitchens and hands
held to burners
apologies screamed
words raining down like
filth
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