bourbon & set to work–
bundling the kid corpse in
a white plastic trash bag
getting up as many of the
brains as I could with the
jacket cover of a book
mopping the wet carpet w/
a dish towel and dousing
it with pet deodorizer–
picking up the larger pieces
of glass then vacuuming the
rest– the bits crackling in
the dust chamber like
angry dice–
and suddenly you were
HOME exhausted from work
the oven smoking the booze on my breath
the brutal smashed screen of the television
the stain on the floor
“Baby,” I said.
you screamed with
frustration
“I can’t take it anymore!
You’re out of control!
then locked yourself in the bedroom
and wept
I switched off the oven
and removed the food
the burger steaks charred
the cheese leaked out in a
greasy unrecoverable soup
the potatoes w/yellow bubbles
breaking though the cracks in
the blackened skin that had formed
(from the bedroom: the
sound of some thing being thrown)
I poured another glass
and drew a hot shower
as hot as I could stand
