The Worst Man in Heaven

You could have ended this in the mountains.I was speeding down the overpass, macadamsnow-cankered with popped blisters. The ridgeline

folded in on itself for miles—two lanes tracing the groovesbetween your knuckles. It was even raining.We both know I was begging for it. Just toss a bear

over the embankment in front of meand be done with it. You could have awarded my fathercustody. Could have sent us off the grid

in some cabover camper, dropped us in the yawning wildand let us teach each other what it means to be a man.Could have scissored off the closet's padlock

so I could get my hands on his shotgun.I spent my nights dreaming about running my tonguealong the barrel, charting the inside of my mouth with metal.

I would have pulled the trigger if you told me who to aim at.You could have denied me release after all those involuntaryholds. Could have jammed the rig in my thigh instead

of passing it under the kitchen table to my uncle.You could have. You could have.At this point, I'm basically doing your job for you.

I get it though. You want me to drive each day from darknessTowards a slightly warmer darkness. Want me to holdmy brother until he no longer winces at the touch.

When will your angels come to vulture me away?You could have. You could have. I've waited so long,this knock inside me is beginning to sound like song.