keeping him dead

Gun That Weighed A Ton (haiku tercets)

Once, my father’s gun
was proferred open-handed
as proof of his love.

He sat naked, wet,
at the edge of the bed, said,
“I didn’t, for you.”

I felt horrible
that I was keeping him dead
amongst the living.

“If we’re being realistic about what an end goal should be, creating something with no ambition other than to get something off our chest might be the purest thing anyone could aim for.”

— Jeff Tweedy / How to Write One Song

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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