John Grey

Sam the Man

Couldn’t begrudge
his demons
lowering dead bodies
deep in the brain’s
demonic rivers,
or tossing them into
its ditch of flesh,
didn’t know how to pray,
his childhood
fell to the rear,
dropped into hell-fire,
and there was
the adult that never was,
the soul,
for lack of which,
he lived
with a basement cellar,
an old refrigerator,
full of names.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s