Painted Shut
Mom, please check on
the lonely man sitting on
his horse in the corner
his saddle draped impasto
on slavered hide-his
own pallid crispness
wanting
waiting for the familiar
to express his ease
words wooled blanketed
against the sticky facts
in favor of comfortable truths
baser wish lists of a
warm chair, holstered,
bound and failing their
children holding their breath
Late Anniversaries
it felt great today
to remember your birthday
was yesterday
I belay a happy birthday
and order a salve
for the transition from
you to me
so, I say with earnest
conviction happy belated
and fuck the hell off
because you painted this
caricature of me while
I painted your house…
that unapproachable seam
between our class fugue
so it was unexpected to realize
just yesterday I had been
snooping through our memories
without a birthday thought for you
then I did the dishes
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