I whisper, signal and shout what I want
to mean. Trees outside these cobwebbed cages
tumble and explode. Ghosts of neighbors haunt
our den of lost toys. Scratching floor rages
fleas from rolling around dogs. Why do you
stare at me that way? I crave bathing my
body in molasses. Shaving my blue
hair with a blowtorch. So I scorch the sky,
so what? I’ll love you always, you know that
I’ll love you always. Always. When the end
comes, I’ll lie beside you. We two in a vat
of cat dung, singing side by side. We’ll bend
like worn thin scouring pads, scraping in play.
Last day. Why do you stare at me that way?
Roger Armbrust
May 24, 2011
