I Am Not That Good Enough At Killing Them With What I Cannot Be. Poem by RIC BASTASA

that night
the image of an old church
arrives late
there is no priest
there

my gallbladder is full
and i let it go

i could be the groom
waiting for the bride
but it is only a wish

then the image of an
old house flashes in my
mind later

i wake up
switch on the light at the headboard
the clock reads
2 pm

i could have been
a black butterfly
the one the old women of the
house dread

but i cut if off
i promise them
i do not want to be
a pain
in their asses
anymore

i am not that good
enough
at killing them
with what i cannot be.