it’s done
fixed at the source, small knife
puddle gravey between my toes
and a smile peaking through the shadows
can hear a laugh a few blocks down
harrowing; sirens closing in but it’s the laugh
feet turn to glue on every pebble skating across cold bricks and the sound of tires shredding in a closing distance
and that laugh; closer and it echoes through my ears like the gravey man’s scream-
i(whose laughing at my pain)i
drop the knife and down to your knees
and they’re laughing
the women two stories up with her baby are laughing
and the man, two blocks down is standing there
with a knife
and my belly spills of gravey
and he laughs
laughs
la-
