ARR 1988 - Flipbook - Page 103
Skeletons in My Closet
Frames of shackled humans
(jabbering while they hang)
lurk
in eluded shadows
imprisoned in my mind.
My writhing unconscious,
mortar without pestle,
lies boundhelpless against their mutiny
fearing gossip to fresh ears.
To restless skeletons cluttering my head
keep your gnawing betrayal under my bed.
N. Douglas Smith
89
