Still, everything is dead. Doesn’t everybody seehow the day skulls its dying? The sound of rain peeling back the sidewalk. I skulk about everything.My dead dog. The dead deer flashed open on the highway. A car drips in its passing: every single day every time I pray I’ll be missing youSometimes a tree broken for my misery. Deserted. A fly hurls itself against my window, eachthump thump thump a heart unraveling. Nothing …I am selfish. The birds outside molt for me. The flowers study new skin. In the mirror, my mouth lurks behind the dead mouth.Every mouth the same strand. I give the room its thunder. The fly drops dead.