I was going to write
a poem today.

I've been reading
poets
every spare moment.

I've been sorting
through
the rubble
of the last six months.

Conversations
have worn me thin
just now

maybe I'll just
go home
and take a nap.

The mist in the collard greens
is moving like an old woman
in dusty lingerie making sparks
with a *** where it lays tired
and the moon looks right odd
like an albino hawk in a dead
tree -  branches of solemnity
and worn out blue guitar strings -
while that old locomotive
of darkness  blows its steam
through my back porch screen.

I tried, Lord,
I tried.

I protected him as often
and with what
little strength I had.

He punched me
in the stomach
when he thought
the neighbor wasn't watching.

And his eyes said
plain enough
that he could **** me
before mom got home
and I would barricade
myself in my room
til she pulled in the driveway
and act like every
thing was fine.

When dad died
he called the funeral home
and threatened
everybody.

I can't keep him anymore.
Even if
his blood cries to me
from the ground.

my sister-in-law
who I know
by face and name
asked me to share happy memories
to comfort
her children

she doesn't know
that I don't have
memories
good or bad

waiting at my mother's
before the funeral
I suggested
that we get out photo albums
to pass the time
and find a memory

she couldn't be bothered
she was afraid
we would take the photos

maybe she doesn't have
memories either

I do have
plenty of nightmares
maybe remembering
is easier
when you sleep.

the day my brother died
I had psychic visions
all day
of him coming to my work
and blowing his brains out
in front of me

I wasn't surprised
much by the phone call

Today I had another
vision
it was me
stabbing myself
in the stomach
with an English scalping knife

and I don't know
what it is supposed
to mean

Because I'm sitting
at McDonald's
with my daughter
on the free wifi

I can't be dead.

I am impatient
Too often
With conversations
These days

And i can't
Say the reason
Out loud

But if a body
Could hear
The conversation
Going on in
My brain

Well, I guess,
It might make
More sense.