Transparent in 31


As the world shuttled to oblivion, I shut my eyes.

            Mother always taught me how to cherish possessions.

                        I should have listened to her before I decomposed.

            What makes me tick you ask?

                        How the realm is heaving with mice.

It was polite of him to accompany my mother to my service.

            I knew I could always count on him.

                        Except for that occasion… when he fragmented my Opus.

Oh, how I miss it. That thing I used to store in my chest.

Folks would ask me how much I would sell it for.

                                                                        My response was always meek…

            Is there a motive why God fashioned the ocean?

Where I stood… there… months ago before he showed me his clout.

                                                                                                            He was cracked.

My chest was always defended. My mama would never let it leave her sight.

            She supposed the contents were precious as well.

                                                            I see her now, with her French nail polish.

                                    I miss mommy. She always smelt like peaches.

Oh, how I despise peaches… those phony apples … isn’t that why we’re here?

                                                                                                                        On Earth?



                        I abruptly unboxed my vision, and there he was. With me?

Wasn’t I free from him?                   Wasn’t I free?

                                    Our father who art in heaven, our father who art on earth.


                                                I remember the spasms and the blows

I prayed too hard.

             Deceptively, I’m on earth again.

This time, transparent.