Weird Feelings

The sound of paper ripping in the corridor of joy.

Look at these, these lines I loved in college from the Dana Levin poem until they became my own timekeepers:

“The father died and then the mother died.

And you were so addicted

to not feeling them, you told no one about the clamp

inside -

around the vena cava. Dam against the blood’s

trash-“

Did I wish it all into being? Some kin…