Dad Crashes
Sharp short report
slices open my sleep
then silence, worse
than noise, sound
is attributable, analyzable
silence entices speculation
infinitely embellishable state
state of intangibility
fill it in
avoid the void
it’s an abstraction
nothing is nothing
Get Up, It
Was Loud, How
what was done
ugly aural assault
boding no good news
where
Up there,
two long stairs
to the bath
room, the tub
he is naked
shriveled dead dick
sprawled sideways
in the tub
glass all around
his eyes glassed
his mind flown
away, so far
far from me
from the tub
his bloody body
gashed head, glass
shards quilling his
ass, his back
he struggles, writhes
feebly tries to
rise, slicing more
flesh, white tub
flashy glass, the
red spread flood
of his blood
help him up
out, pick out
glass pricking his ass
wash the gash
on his head
just leave him
my mother said.
Robert Douglas Hickey |
