Saturday, July 27, 2013

icebound




nothing left but to
break the baby’s hands

october and then
november
 
blind paths to christ and back roads
littered with corpses and
then this man i know who divorces
one waitress to marry another

who ends up in
a two-room apartment
addicted to self-pity

has three children who no
longer speak to him and the
barrel of a gun in his mouth and
we all hold our breaths
waiting for a happy ending

we all laugh at the prophets
with their tongues cut out

how could they have
not seen this coming?



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