I apologise for the mess
My act has left
On the blank pages spread
To catch my ink bled
The loudest wordless roar
Of an exclamation point
On the paper-lined floor.
This is the conclusion of a sound mind,
With a mind that sounds like the phases of the moon;
A signed mound to mount this tongue.
A soul thrust past the valve of adulthood
And caught in the crease of the spine
Of this ripped dust jacket book.
I will take the pen that's hanging over my head
And stab a seeping hole through the arc of this text.
The thumbnail clip of my life is buffering -
Caught between the proposal and the reply;
Between ripcord pull and silk blossom relief;
The catch between inhale and exhale.
I take control of the camera and cut the scene.
With these words, I return to you your rosary beads
Carried like a comforting tire around my neck
I wanted expelled from my life like kidney stones
But had to leave for you to collect like
Cremation gold fillings.