Am I Supposed to Know the Difference between Fiction, Nonfiction, and Poetry? I Don’t.
Should I have an opinion about the kindling snap the line makes
when it’s broken,
and the ridiculous echo? There’s nothing special about being broken.
Where I’m from
it’s all plaster casts, walkers, and breathing machines. Bud’s been dead for
years and Shirley’s
still blaming him for her emphysema. I changed chronic obstructive
pulmonary disease
to emphysema in order to streamline, but Bud’s real. Aunt Shirley’s real.
