graverobber’s ballad

Poetry

bifurcating like a heart would/night scatters into pieces/reassembled like a girl should/be I tug the laces/of my boots and hold the shadows/tight against my ribs/double double oil and meadow/bubble burning cribs/collecting all the dead men’s bones/scattered in the dirt/collected in their wooden coffins/and rotting threads of shirts/with useless rubber shoe-soles/I useful make my hull/roll ashes into hunks of coal/burning fuel to cull/the waves from beds of bones to beds/of men so close to death/they gladly open up their heads/and bottlecork their breath/double triple whiskey sour/bubble boil the gin/I lay the bones out in my bower/rinse lavender my skin/rinse their names of every letter/and spell myself instead/every night a little wetter/every day less dead