Pilgrim
I saw forty in the rear view and put on my right turn signal
Only to see forty stretch before me
And then left and forwards put me at forty again
Where reverse is just repealing a life of sentences
I got out and pilgrimed the map
The ashes under my feet my own
Like a factor of eight and five
Ashes like black squirt between the toes
Of the day that is made forty
Years of black ash make for black soles
Black soles do not gambol
Except to journey in to my car
Hide behind the glass
Call out my father’s name
Like a snied snivvler in the night
Turn the light on
Please
Let it be down
Please
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