Archive for June 12th, 2010

By Len Kuntz

Satan and dentists and clowns.
My mother’s cat claw fingernails and the grime beneath Father’s.
Snakes and rats and old people’s blue-veined hands.

Now it is
mornings and Wallingford, our calico, staring at me
as if I’m an axe murderer.
The unmade bed, warm on one side,
the sheets tangled up with nothing.
The bed.
The bed.
The big unmade bed.

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