Published October 29, 2013 by April Fox

You gather deaths
collect them, fragile things
put on display for all the world
behind sheltered, break-resistant glass
–see how big my compassion is?
my heart is broken, so sad–
little heroes, dripping acid tears
on the linoleum
eating through to the dungeon

Your sorrow smells of mothballs
and camphor
and uncooked meat
left out too long.

Arrange your teeth in careful rows, straight as straight and
locked tight behind tragic lips
corners just so
tucked down into your trembling chins
stuffed with greed
and sympathy bought
at the five and dime
buy one dead one
get one free
tack your ribbon to your chest
click like to pray to demigods
that live behind the screen
keep scrolling
if you want
to go to hell

Dress up in your funeral garb,
black head to toe
slick your lips with gasoline
and settle on the couch
to change the view.

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