The Ownership & Apartment 213

A Poem by Peter Schal

A poem relating to Jeffrey Dahmer...enjoy!

One, two, three, four...

The blood that stains the walls is not my own.

The jagged rips in the sagging furniture is not from my own hands.

The crimson water draining down the sink that has been scraped from my fingers; I hold no ownership.

The pictures on the walls, the parts in the refridgerator, the altar in the closet; those are not mine, but I claim them falsely as my own.

The men I take home, the boys I call from the streets, the soothing vibration of the powersaw in my hands, all are not mine; though I do call them my own.

Seventeen convicted, or so they think. Many more hidden under the grass that grows in full bloom outside the apartments. More still, though in seperate parts, in the walls, in the freezer, in me.

Five, six, seven....

The memories of a fond experience, sliced away and placed in jars for my viewing pleasure after the deed is done. They try to escape, but, either by barbells or what not, they are mine.

They are not mine, like the skin off my teeth or the sweat off my back, but I claim them as my own. You see, I love them. I love every single piece of what was brought to me. I keep them, even though they are gone. Their smell haunts others, but me, oh how I relish it!

Eight, nine, ten...

I try to correct my mistakes, bring them back to the living, with a power drill and a vile of acid poured down a hole in their skull. But they remain wide-eyed, open-mouthed, frightened. The liquid just formulates in a smelly. pinkish-red pool where the head lays flat on the desktop.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen...

Still they do not move.

But I call them my own, do I not?

Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen....

They are my sons, my children, and I love them. As I said, I relish every single piece that is brought to me. No one can take what ownership is rightfully mine.

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen.....there is more, but I love them too much to just leave around.

They are no longer owned by anyone.

They are mine.

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three...