the child is dead

the woman

the mother

weeps

my mother

weeps for me

and she cried

but was more empty

when her child died

Who ever thinks they

will give birth to a dead

baby?

who ever thinks  tonight is

the last night for them?

better hide

the people are strange

tonight

creeping in windows

touching themselves


I want death

death come on over

I’m waiting tired on the couch

waiting

drinking harsh whiskey

waiting