Mulch Project

After you left meI yearned for a reciprocation of emotion,so I showed up in your backyard,uprooted you by the ankles,and shoved you into a wood chipper—just like in that movieyou loved more than me.

All kinds of energy,until pink eraser bits of your headarched out in a splatterof hairy, bloody gunk.

You are now somethingI can walk all over,bury or bleach—form and content blendedinto discontent.

To be dead is to be ordinary,unfit for human feelings,I say to you,but your left earis lodged in a pile of dog shit.