silent sleeper

[father_hunger]

Burn the sheets!
On your to-do:
The stench is wretched still,

Scrub the walls,
And toss the towels,
And don’t forget your pill.

Human error
Alone explains
This package in the mail.

To hold this suit,
So sweet and small,
In my soiled hands.

It must be some
Sore irony
Perhaps a wrong address,

Or tiny ghost
From winters past
Stirring in distress.