Failure
You’re always dying in this room
and I want to pull you out
but where is the band-aid
where is the kettle? One way leads
behind cabinets and the small hole
through a crawlspace
to walls of another house
your house
in a hall down the middle of your
white country house
and the wide windows flanking the front
beneath pretty dormers
but where is the porch-swing
where is the swing?
I see only one way
up the staircase
so I’m breaking into your room now
I find you writing a poem
I take it it’s wonderful
you say that it’s not wonderful
I say it is it’s wonderful trust me
I know about it
so give me your hand or kiss mine
Assassin
here I am falling in your place