kirchner's suicide, and mine, and yours

yrself beautiful in this
grey october sunlight and
everything i say distorted by fear


every wall
hung with a cross


the windows broken
or thick with dust
or looking out over
a million tiny bones


this woman in
the bathroom crying


this baby found
floating in the tub


an old story and that i
tell you i'm sorry
fifteen years too late


that i dream about
the accident
then wake up whole


visit the house
of my father's ashes


can remember
nothing about him
but his anger