William S. Burroughs said cut into the present and the future leaks out When I cut into the past what leaks out is you

Since you died the house style could best be described as leaves that cling to trees too long into winter

For me elegy is a Ouija planchette something I pretend not to touch as I push it around trying to make it say what I want it to say

There are days when everything feels like a metaphor for your having died There are days when nothing does

How many thousandsof stories like yourshave been toldand forgotten how manystories of lovingly durable nurses of hospital sheets of IV tubes dripping saline and morphineHow many stories of drugsthat would haul youalong in their wake for a whilebut finallylet you sink