Three Ghosts
Brett Elizabeth Jenkins
I am scanning three ghosts into my computer.
The ghosts will eat my internet browser
cookies and sit together at the chairs in the hearts
gameboard, waiting for me to click it to life.
They set up camps inside various folders
and make edits in the margins of my poems.
One ghost flips through old photos and longs
to be scanned into them, too. He touches
the pixels of my sister's young face, thinks
about crying, burrows deep into the motherboard.
18