The Whole
   disintegrates never
   there are no fragments
   in that Together

His body wrapped
Still and lifeless
Still and greedy
Still and worried
Still and dead
pITy

The guilty had fled
Escaped
Eloped with death
A better or worse fate
The money over the cliff

Why?
He did it for it
No
He did it because of it
Money

Don't Leave Me
I Need U
Save Me
So What

He kept his mother
in a sealed envelope,
waxed,
stored in the back
of his closet
like so many
old sweaters,
not worn but kept
for the memories.
I caught him once,
crying, kneeling
before her. He held
her ashes like
she once held him.
And through a gap
in his fingers
I could read
the ink that said:
    Date of death: 12/10/17
    Date of cremation: 12/12/17
    Store in a cool, dry place.

I tell my secrets to children
in the form of fairy tales
A "Once upon a time," is enough
to quiet down their wails
and I spin stories as well as spiders
weaving webs that a lost child
must navigate the tangled trails
with cleverness and wit
sharper than any sword
more accurate than any arrow
I speak of children who questioned
the established path of rejection
and this misguided idea of reciprocity,
"You must suffer because it happened to me."
Because my blessing in life was not brute strength
but a clear mind and clever tongue.
I tell my secrets to children
so that they may grow smarter because of them.