Skant left of Reuben and it’s a relief
A fishbone of picked ribs and the horned Luciferan skull
I feel the guilt of not doing everything
Everything I could for him if
Had time not been pressing
And school
Family
My other lives had not shouted their rich demands
Perhaps, I think I should have wormed him when he looked poor,
But then he picked up
But then he died. One fading evening alone
He hadn’t long been dead when
Eyes flattening
I found him
And dragged him
Still sighing away his life
Over
Out of the way
There he rested
Night after passing night
No carrion finding him
Night
After night
Lying as if in life
Fuelling my guilt
Seemingly breathing as his gasses burst decaying organs
Squatting at his head I spoke to his unconvincingly dead
Of sorrow
When finally the crows picked his arse and eyes
What a relief
aggiegoatmother 