The dead father and a howling daughter.
De, de, deny thy father and… you’ll
no longer be….
–JoJo, let the poets cry themselves
to sleep! Aye, fly away home, captain.
De part dearly.
Hey, pumpkin head, how ‘boot that?
It’s cold & dark. A frozen lake.
Mittens still warmish & cocoa
I will make for thee before
You were the hallway narrowing its heart.
You were a bedroom hitchhiking a plan.
You were one revolver who loved you back.
You were a mouth open to the refrains.
You were the trigger-man with no slack.
You were the bullet wanting to part.
I, am your splattered brains.
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