Right Angles

Bless the girl for being gotten there

I’ll remember her

On my own, she was right there

Bless the man for being gotten there

I’ll remember him

On my own with the white mare

Bless my brother who was shot there

Just to say that I don’t care

Most of us—we complain for days

Bless us; all alone, as the right

Comes blessed with rubber bands

Or bled

Or god

I can’t breathe

With this

Down the jungle gym

I break my wrist on the sand

Picked up by feet

Shook like its noir

I can’t breathe

Without you near…

Without…

I can’t breathe without you

 

Was she so bad?

That you had to suck the bottle so hard

Such a—such a—such a milk bottle

You were

To me

I couldn’t behave

I couldn’t breathe

Without—you—near—

I couldn’t be saved.

 

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