June 12, 2011


Every hangman-rope has a label. In fact it may seem like each rope has several. Waving in the breeze like flags on a line, spelling out a misled life. The branch and the mistakes, solid ground just a few inches under-feet. The hammer marks the decisions of the furious jury. The defeat. The chase. The regret, and the act. One note for the womb, and the memory of Jesus Christ. Mother, love your son. Son, love your mother. One note for the bride. The surprise of emptiness. One for the father. I am Failure. But one label is all. Mine is all this pain.

Snapping out.

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