Shout

 

 

I have a boxful

of broken bones and dust

which disturbs me

it used to be somebody I loved

who was here

clever and funny

it rests in a cabinet now

sometimes the furnishings are polished

the gaggle television stays on

its unintelligible screams and hurt noises

and the heat from outside

a hundred days

a thousand

how many repetitions of hot sun and blank

a box of blown away stuff

remains.