Here’s a pony you don’t like.
This time, I’m holding you
and telling you the truth about
how, at camp, you fell into a
ditch of clay and nearly
trampled to donate– you
thought– to the afterlife a fly
on a turkey carcass. Life is
full, a morbid castle–
a bird plunked in traffic,
an idea of being able
to survive atop the hood.
Your sister split the life
into more than a half,
a divorce from life and
tenant. The cost was
the roof, and you paid
someone to fix it, as
loyal as you are
to the world, soap-
scum coating it. Please
forgive yourself. I thought
you were a legend. Please,
never step toward the rail.

(originally published in Divot, Spring 2023)