I killed him
I don’t know how but I remember his blood was everywhere
—that’s a lie; I can’t forget his blood was everywhere

An empty cologne bottle
That’s what I shoved him in,
whoever he was
From my hands into the neighbors’ recycling bin
but then all I could think of were fingerprints,
so I dug him out
Blood dripped from a crack in the glass
And my fingerprints and his blood and empty cans of Diet Coke
clanking as a light came on over the porch
and I ran but there was nowehere to go
no matter how much I moved I stayed right where I was and I heard him
crying and crying is like vomiting in so many ways
that I didn’t know whether to shed tears or yak in my hands.

The neighbors are upon me now and suddenly
Darkness is the only thing left
Besides the inaudible, insuppressible tightening and twisting
Between my ribs and pelvis,
a loneliness you could only know if you’d never read a book or received a phone call