Sparklers
There is no word for this:
Listening to you say the same thing
over and over and over and over and over
circling the room, chopping out chunks of heart
and if not me, then who?
There is no word for
clearing out the empty nest bedroom,
finding the tube of Strawberry Durex Play
covered in fluff under your daughter‟s bed,
like a Pritt stick with the top off.
There is no word for
not minding; after all, he made her happy
until it snapped her like a twig realizing
he wasn‟t going to be the one,
before she glued herself back together.
There is no word for this;
Although the Greeks had about 20,
pondered by sculpted men with porn beards;
But they weren‟t lashing out
at you because I‟m sad about him.
There is no word for this;
Under tutting stares in Farmfoods
Her smile is like the Northern Lights,
Patiently lugging her Special Boy‟s siren deadweight,
Her hair snatched back in a second.
There is no word for
watching someone fade as their life
peels off like a wet label, as this
feeling drags its clueless club foot
up endless stairs, foaming at the mouth.
There is no word
So I can forget knowing anything.
It makes as much sense as his wife‟s cancer
or controversy in the chip shop queue,
or you taking turns pushing each others‟ wheelchair.
No word.
But if I take a deep breath, there it is,
like us waving sparklers at a frosty night sky,
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