radio ghosts

a dialogue- view in browser for optimal formatting

                                                   dried-out sponge

                                              mold around the edges

You, Prometheus

poisoned by

someone else’s liver

and buried catatonic

Me, The Audience

I-

i bought the wrong ticket

but i’m too polite to speak up

too good

                                                      thankless job

                                                              but i

                                             those vaulted ceilings

                                and i forget what i already cleaned

                                                      and sometimes

                                                when they think i’m

                                                           sleeping

you hear The Shrieking

                                                        The Ripping

and

something

like Breath?

                                         they’re stuck in the radio

                                                              again

in your willie nelson cd

with the scratch

                                            if i hold my pinkie out

                                             they sing me goodnight

                                                          a lullaby

                                                         of secrets

and you swallow

                                                 i swallow them all

                                               in my pinkie promise

                                                   hello old friend

hello old friend

                                                             Hello?