215 cotterbury [2]


The dowdy man,
baseball cap,
beer belly.

Holding a 2-4 and shouting
out directions to 711.


Could some one please call 911
there is a ruckus on the street.

My neighbours were remarried
before they arrived fresh and new.
each had six children, maybe more.
all over thirty at this point, the youngest
25.

they return like this, sans shirt,

shouting curse-words
letting them roll thickly off their
tongue into the warm heat of a cicada buzzing afternoon

there’s a bbq in their back yard. they congregate around
the holy vessel.

watch the meat sizzle, guzzle and kill more brain cells.

begin killing themselves.