Gibberish for the Dead

i.                    could i go with her

 

There is a bottle of iodine in my dresser drawer

Don’t find it; I’m not a convincing liar

“I spend a lot of time on nuclear fallout

I guess”

 

I wish I was still seven

So that I could just pretend

That this bleakness inside me

�"Radiation poisoning

    From brothers charging my fort

    Pillows, sheets and guillotines�"

Abides my chugging iodine

 

ii.                  to heaven?

 

Walking into the kitchen

Her silver hair dangles

Over pie pans

And the smell of cinnamon and apple

And I remember picking

At the orchard

Her smile

Echoing through the branches

 

And don’t throw out the seeds, please.

 

iii.                is the answer in her bones?

 

Pass me the saw

She’s laying stiff on the slab

Nothing like a bit of meat for butchering

But maybe I can find that recipe

The one for Sunday mornings

More gummybears than crucifix

it didn’t insult me, tongues like serpents

Just yet

 

Her bones became scripture

Is that where the soul is?

Tear through tendon and tissue

Blood sprays; holy water

It burns me now it burns me now

 

iv.                the soul:   

Author's Note

I am aware that much of this makes little to no sense. But then, neither does the subject matter.