DIRECTIONS First, disconnect smoke detectors and dim all the lights. If desired: soft music, incense. Take the letters of an ex-friend (ten years worth) and place them in your kitchen sink. Douse thoroughly with lighter fluid and ignite. Add postcards, photo- graphs, poems, notes--- any items you might have cher- ished as much as you cherished said so-called friend. Fan the flames; let their heat redden your cheeks. Breathe in the black smoke. Hold it. Exhale. Begin to feel unbur- dened, free. Laugh out loud: you've destroyed a little piece of that person's voice. Scoop ashes into plastic trash bag. Top with eggshells, coffee grounds. Spit. Repeat as needed, as others either betray or a- bandon you, or just let you down. Next |
The East Village Poetry Web David Trinidad |