Last Person to Know Her Name


A stranger in a blue wig rolled on the floor,

Her eyes rolled too 

Until sclera hues matched wall paint 

Matched Styrofoam. Loose change 

Founds its marks along the carpet. 

Police entered and embedded dead Presidents

In the fabric. 

“What’s her name?”

Reasons to name corpses.

Soft kicks to hips.

Officer knelt for prayer 

And baptized her blue wig 

With spit.


Details emerged from 

Another wallet biopsy,

To become her future…


Named to pay bills. 

Usurped from pastures to roam waiting rooms.

Safeguarding hiccups to liberate 

Franchises of speech.

Phone calls appear and remind the forethought 

Secluded in cranial doldrums. Pay the piper.

Fear the reaper. Kill the darlings. 

Count a blessing.

Dial-tones replicate 

Audio tinny as lifelines disappear

Goodbye to future voicemails.

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