a defamation.

there are tragic things.

like dried earthworms
on the sidewalk after
a three-day rain.
there are tragic things.
like melting on a
monday evening
listening to nothing
but the electricity in
the walls.
there are tragic things.
like watching the
last snow-fall you will
ever see warm before
it can even be remembered.
there are tragic things.
like ripping the grass
from the ground for an
hour and twelve minutes.
there are tragic things.
like contemplating
eyelashes, then tearing
them to pieces in the palms
of your hands.

there are tragic things.
like singing to the
silent simply, to hear
silence in return.