On the Aggrieved

There’s a white wall & just beyond
is another a soft voice says just behind
me. Every friend you’ve ever had will pass
through here. The kitchen is a mess.
Isn’t it your turn to wash the dishes again?
Go make kindling for this wall. The hatchet’s there.
Warm up this house because it’s winter again
& skin is another word for forgetting your blood
is in motion. Check the closet where your brother is held
four inches above the carpet. Take his large hands
to clean the ash in the fire stove. Check the dresser
for the pistol your mother gave your nephew.