Internal Review Service Poem by Dan Michaelson

Take my home.
Take my car.
Take my dishes.
Take my clothing.
Take my TV.
Take my computer.
Take 79 cents in change on the counter.
Take my health.
Take my self respect.
Take the pictures of my son.
Take the pictures of my granddaughter.
Take the pictures of my brothers.
Take the pictures of my mother.
Take the pictures of my father.
Take the pictures of my friends.
Take my bible.
Take my clock.
Take my pocket watch.
Take my keys. One of them actually opens up something.
Take the brush I use to clean the toilet.
Take my collection of music boxes.
Please take out the trash on Monday mornings.
Take my mother’s cane that I have been using.
Take all the medicines I have been taking just to live and dispose of them.
Take all the rest of my possessions to satisfy your hunger for my debt.
Take the gun out of my cold dead decaying hand.
Take my body to the morgue.
Burn it please.
Put the ashes in a bag in some room until it can get be disposed of (on Mondays?)
Take my name off your list.
Take a break; you have had a tough day.