Ken

Drilled a hole in the wall Cables in bunches, bite-marks in my plastic straw Almost called Grandma But like a glass horse buckled in the clutches of the raven's claw Picked the slugs up in her yard After-school, Walmart and Dion's In the one where we were almost shot Complained about her sister Susan Ken, where have you been When was the last time that I saw you Was it Mardi Gras or Lafayette Or am I forgetting something more recent I was only a kid back then If you must bury me now make sure it's at the Phoenix Open Or at a festival of crosses Your obituary, and my sister baking When the levees get lonesome Your obituary and my sister baking And your eyelids supple and starstruck Your obituary and my sister baking Hands steady on the paint brush Your obituary, where did my mother go Like a slumbering scimitar in the pale dust. Gripping her phone Compelled to reread what I can't recall Awoke to the warpath of a saw Handyman let himself in, spit dark from his heavy chaw Stood like rigid, frozen straw Stuffed into a shirt, a scarecrow in lockjaw Drowsy and withdrawn Been sober now for much too long Messages from my sister and mom Pictures of wine between your wife Susan and my Grandma Ken, where have I been Let's ditch pretensions and get to drinking What was Spring like in Lafayette You lived there and I only got to visit Any reasons or regrets Why did you make your employees listen to classical music Between what I'm reading and the shabby memories I have left Ken my friend, I can't seem to tell the difference Your obituary, and my sister baking When the levees get lonesome Your obituary and my sister baking And your eyelids supple and starstruck Your obituary and my sister baking Hands steady on the paint brush Your obituary, where did my mother go Like a slumbering scimitar in the pale dust