© 2006  Mark Jackley

AFTER I LAID HIM OFF, I DROVE HIM HOME
 
His molten anger soon
sputtering into sadness,
hardening into fear
of telling his wife.
And the coolness
of his mortgaged kitchen
that I seemed to swallow,
and its darkening shadows,
tethering my tongue.

LOCKS
 
All those times
I changed the locks
after we fought like vipers.
All those hundreds of dollars
spent to keep you out.
All those glittering keys,
their little teeth bared.
Yet I address you still,
proof there is no door.

All work is property of Mark Jackley.

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