The Merits

That time that the neighbours found your car
the rhythm of a child’s feet slapping the earth
telling it

it ain’t worth much
not much today
it ain’t worth a dime
not at tomorrow’s rate

telling it
telling it true

all along the burn dead trail
the silence in the arteries
weapons line the corridors
kept anonymous by
a clean employee

controlled by eyes

the expression
the catalogue of the ways
that she looks at him

go tell it
tell it the truth
no decorate no lies

Locked inside, outside of rain

accept a weapon
without instruction

revolting against it

only that
is what your parents did.

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