Plumber’s Note

I do not want to alarm you but your
toilet was clogged with bones and fur-
thermore I saw a skeletal bird
roaming the graveyard you call your
basement. Not a reason to worry but
I heard my name in frantic birdsong
when I got the thing to flush. A whirl-
wind! The bones now live in a black
bin by the bathroom door. Make your-
self a new home, build yourself a
prayer because my next job is in a
church toilet; the pastor says his con-
gregation’s constipated in today’s
plentiful sin society, no angel wings
for anyone who seeks God in the end-
less rolls of toilet paper anymore and
he wants to flush his hope down. Like
everyone else he’s looking for relief
and belief and furthermore you owe
me three hundred fifty dollars; him,
your soul.

Canal Fulton

growing up
was a game
in Canal Fulton
because I didn’t know
I was growing up
and didn’t know
my shelter
from a world
of many better things
diversity is a white
term I hadn’t heard
in that suburb
by the manmade body
of water I spent
so much time
not contemplating

Maruchan Ramen (Creamy Chicken Flavor)

I stir polyvinyl chloride into the pot;
seconds later, string it down my throat.

How did this world get so cruel? I
like the taste and I’m ashamed to admit

I ate two packets, then scrunched them
in the trash bin beneath the bananas

so no one could catch me, but if I am
paying with my dollar, mail a capitalist

two fresh quarters, minted abominations
I use to willingly slake my own demise

at the supermarket, long lines of
omnivores waiting to get our fix.

The Devastation Is

   I am
     & nothing
             the murk
                   of love
    my worst

Weeks of Rain

It began to rain, it rains, the
drainage of the city trembles.

A moth dances in the wind
through Carl Sagan’s window.

When we live, we apologize
for the love. Rain falls, rain

drains, and water is the body
where we lose trust.

Shadows drown
the house at night.

In the sun there is dust—
the moth follows love there.

We apologize to moths.
Rain is the body; trust

does not return. Shadows
eat the moths at night.