melanie browne

your Zapruder film frame DNA

I apologize. I tried to read your poem
With the arbitrary roman numerals
Some of your stanzas were
Not in a numeric order as one
Would have expected nevertheless
I tried to stay on track and I almost made
It through the first stanza
But the numbering made things smaller
And smaller till your words disappeared and then I saw
Nothing but white and the white became the pixels
And then I saw clearly what it was you
Were trying to say to me
You wanted me to see your tiny erector set
I see it!
I see your bread crumb Jesus!
The DNA in your Zapruder film frame!
But I'm still not exactly sure
what your poem was about

heaven is a giant pawn shop

Heaven is
a giant pawn shop
with no 90 day interest
pawn tickets

You can trade
a bladder skin
for a
Lord of the
Flies Ballet!

I think about this
as I'm listening to
Rush
in the car,

trying to calm myself
down, having a
panic attack
in the parking lot

outside of Starbucks,
worrying about
whether I would be
cool or cast out,

and I'm still thinking
about heaven
and that pawn shop
built of gold
in a rainbow filled sky