Thirty five years
holding, wadding, stuffing it
pressing it down and trying to throw it all up

Thirty five years
of thinking it through, reliving it
being it
that dark blanket with it's frayed edges
that place in the universe that sucks you in
turning your insides
out

Thirty five years
I walked this place
my ego in my hand
and I thought of how small it is
how big
it was along the banks

thirty five years of fear
became a small joke in it's nothing place
I am enormous with power
enough to save that small rabbit
running in that nothing graveyard with a handful of
some bodies
Did they chase away the crows?
I did.

Thirty five years and everything is gone
turned into something else
just a shitty little town
without a bait shop
or a silo
or the broken child

the sea wall is still holding it all together
the dead dog has gone to dust
Thirty five years of crouching behind the door
flung open and now quietly shut.