Dreaming Of The Dead

Remembering your white grassy hair.

Bad breath behind my neck.

My facial hair falls out,

Into the sink and down the drain.

My mother is remarried now,

My father caught me masturbating.

My aunt forced me to have sex,

My uncle bathed me in gasoline.

These are the times I remember.

Yet you keep on telling me to not give up.

I have friends that care.

Someone loves me.

The last time I checked,

Mirrors don’t show my reflection,

The shoes I wear are too small for my feet,

And I’ve never eaten a piece of fruit that wasn’t spoiled.

My ark is here.

I’ll sing my boatman’s song,

Pull up my anchor,

And leave you alone.

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.08.24.15:45:54@599BwayNYC