Friends Up There

I sat back and declined
to mention
anything having to do with


for I would like to go out to dinner with you
and we

could talk more
openly without

hearing aid
persona—the one
loved the one
who builds
context from
everything everyone does
for him

the one who
stands in a corridor
accumulates silence
listens to
dust talk of
sneezing mucus,
membranes recite
of napkins
fall from
gains’ entrance
to passageway trash bin

between covers
loud speaker
a brain backwards

whatever’s happening

we don’t
ask questions

about heaven

we don’t insert
point of view insert
here at this
cut and paste
we don’t
do that

we don’t interject
in the heaven part of non-
question believing we watch and stand back and support
beliefs not our not our religion
not our lives—they must be strangers
in the strange,
they are not in heaven together
in heaven

where they stand together he
must be a non-believer, and this
and this

on a core
but subtle layer of the earth
is a problem for them
in their hearts
a small
is a non-believer
who takes care of their son
he doesn’t know the
son of the earth
was the one of heaven
and this, a problem
in their hearts
in their I’s sleep

where they don’t talk of it
these thing, for they don’t
know of these things
festering in their
reasons’ logic
in their
locked-cold and desperate attempts

to murder the baby sitter

we are friends


him and I
the guy upstairs,
we are friends

if you can believe it

can you
believe it

are you surprised

him and I are friends upstairs

are you surprised

I fucked up
didn’t clean the kitchen when I left on my vacation

are you surprised
I fucked up


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