That last needle to ***** your skin
will set you free
from every prison you’ve lived in
or dreamt of.

But the Fathers will be too old
and the Sons too young
to carry your casket.

Does it bother you that women
will be your pallbearers?
Or have you always known that
we would put you to ground?

Mary

I swallowed something
like a watermelon,
like a deep burden and a great joy
wrapped neat and round in blood
and work raw fingers.

I feel it growing, making me
a bit sick, slightly nauseas of the future
part to rid myself
and part to never be full again