Sunday, October 19, 2025

poem

 Slack

He gave his mother 

Generous coils of slack

Recalling her torrents 

Of wild banshee screaming 

About things neither he

Nor his sisters could control

Imagine how loud it must

Have been inside her head 

That some had to escape

Just to have itself heard 

Small isolated joys 

Are never enough to infect

The ones you love

Only anger gets released

Like pus under pressure

Beneath the skin

For everything else

His immune system 

Was unusually strong

Isolating and then attacking

Any good feeling

Before it had a chance

To build up 

And come out all wrong


10/19/25

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