let it burn




Tonight I burned dinner for the first time in years-

almost six. Clumsy hands. 

I let the alarm scream, I sat with the over door open

watching the edges of the lasagna turn black and curl in, trying to protect its soft center.

Forgotten mother. Take it away. 

We support the rod here, take him away. 

I let the house fill up with black smoke. 

I sat out in the yard with a bottle of cheap wine.