By David McLean
Kemper did bad things,
apparently, silencing
borderline with a tasty
cream pie,
a shot of timeless
life, murdering maternity,
tactfully tacit memory
and a chain of the sexual
inevitable, plastic
and bruised mattresses,
words and garbage disposal,
dead flesh, mortal sex,
and a claw hammer to hold,
because in that matrix
the meretricious monster
grows, so children grow older,
home alone, mothers
recycled, outgrown;
nothing and strong hands,
it's all we've ever known -
it's all we need to know