find my father’s bones in
the desert, but not his wings
take the diamonds from his eyes
this is what i remember
from the last century, and so
this is the basis for
all of my lies
i don’t want to hear about his
death in a hospital bed, and
i don’t want to hear about
the motherfucking future
the plan is to tie up
her parents
the plan is to take the child
from its home then drive
down to mexico and kill it,
and i remember laughing
the plan falls apart, but not
before the oldest
daughter has been raped
and listen
there is no plan, of course,
only a silence that needs
to be filled with
meaningless words
there is only money and
less money and no money
my father’s bones in the
desert, worth less than the
small cost of burying them
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