For Mary Shelley
“There is rage inside me the likes of which should never escape.” Frankenstein
Canvas can be draped, and you’ll be my Grecian
Closures carefully stitched echo in twine below ground
Some rearrangements are more thoughtful than others, you see
Token, token, talisman, tether
A younger me haunts this ghost story
Looking at me looking over my shoulder, wondering if we’ll make it and always the amateurish attempts at taking things apart
Holding it so close I can’t see down any road
Time is orbiting all of us like we’ll care again
A candle that burns twice as fast costs just as much despite increased productivity and that’s the motherfucker
First came cloaks lined in fur, then came marriage
Houses into homes and cities and towns
There was a services sector
Everything placed between every other thing
Defenses were constructed
Mistakes were made with fences
And we all went on living.
