The one unheated room in hell. The one
unhappy couple in heaven, screaming
obscenities at one another on a
street corner on the loveliest day of
summer:

Once, that was us. Happy anniversary. But

we got older, and the love took over. The
sunken luxury liner of so much.
So long I’ll never forgive you.
So long I want to kill you.

What a joke:
An overcoat thrown out of the window
of a moving car. Wounds
to meat. Like

the Gorgon. A terrific
noise invented her.
Followed by silence.
A blaze of radiation
in a bedroom.
Our mouths left open.
The way

they knocked the coliseum down
on the other side of town
and built a toy museum.

Little Christian.
Little lion.
Little cage.
Little door left open.

Right this way.