god's will, belated

a simple thing like
rain on monday

like opening the door to the
room of hanged men

a bloodless act

this house with
the windows painted white

with a dog chained to a tree
in the front yard

someone's daughter crying behind
a locked door
while the cameras roll

not rape but profit

not anywhere but nowhere
and the car fueled by blood

one hand on the wheel
the other missing

the rope impossible to tie but
the trigger still a possibility

the question of
inward or outward

cobain or lennon or
maybe something more profound
like rothko

self-hatred transformed
into a fist

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