Died Inside of a Liquor Store

03/01/202002/28/2020

Your husband just like your father
Both with failed livers
Died inside of the liquor store
Staring into Jim Beam’s eyes as they slid face-first to the concrete floor.

In a quizzical call to Heaven
The pathetic attempts to scrape them off the floors like fried eggs from a skillet
The whole room is filled with vertigo vapors

And the light turns to black
And the bottles clank together
Like a beast is shaking the store from the ground
These fragile trembling hands
Fall
And the nail is hammered through them
We watched their souls
And we revisit them
In our recordings of 1970’s video footage
That plays of skips and static in our brain
Grainy faced robbers in Christmas Morning snow

Ripped at cartoon wrapping paper
The presents for you,
The ugly clown banks,
The presents for them,
The shiny new bottles.