Kyle Harbinger

Brother

that morning when it all made sense
you talked jibber jabber.

the sparrows hung themselves
one
by


one.

we looked out the window

you with the eye of magic,
me going blind.

every night, you knelt beside your bed
and lied,
and the sparrows kept dying.


trees shot pool in the smoky billiards
of my mind;

in yours, I’m not so sure;
but when you knelt down
all the world made sense
and collapsed.

in mine,
8 ball
corner pocket.

in yours,
the sparrows were singing like angels.
when really
they were already dead.

Poem Submitted: Friday, April 25, 2008

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