A Scalping

A machete for cutting the brush, the kids say excited, in our nearly brushless backyard

not a weapon and rat poison, too, i hide it from you

Ya know, there is something going around, a chest thing, people have died you say like

Just thought you should know

A gas can placed oddly, alone below the pipes leading to my bedroom, why

A strange smell, all for the skunk, for you or not?

On you, this i know by heart.


There once was a squirrel

writhing in death, pain you suspect

at least that’s what you said

I couldn’t look at its body

half-crushed through the middle, plastered partially to the pavement

i rode on but you insisted to go back

put it out of its presumed misery.


So altruistic of you to find a rock

spiritual sensitivity aside the highest living tissue on the body

reflects higher truths upon me i know

whether inflammation has abated

a philosophical conflict, strong psychic phenomenon

may trigger distress to the skin

no need for your sympathy

please leave my lotions alone.


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