Irish Funeral

Memory’s phantom acquires its exit through an uninhibited window, silencing your time on this plane. The crying begins as recollections are held ransom behind tapestries, banging around the home of this grievance party. At 3 A.M. we arrested the clocks to signify when you passed between our two worlds. We sabotaged the reflection of our…

Wednesday’s Child

I was not born to be happy… No bright star shown down on me When I was dropped headfirst into the world Red-faced, kicking, screaming And placed in my mother’s arms— The only true home I’ve ever known Instead, a dark star witnessed my birth Stepped out of hell’s black hole Took me in its…